Kairos
by Rivendell101
Summary: She looks up from across the table. "Do you know why this place is called Kairos, Percy?" she asks, staring at Will and Nico across the room. He shrugs, and she continues. "It's Greek. 'The supreme moment.' The fleeting rightness of time and place for words or action," she tells him. "If you keep running you'll miss it." They all will. / Solangelo/Percabeth GelatoShop!AU
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter one of my PJO Gelato!AU I haven't written for PJO before, so let me know how I did! :) Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **Kairos**

 **Chapter One**

Working at a New York ice cream shop in the middle of Winter, Percy decides, is a hell of a lot like watching paint dry. It's, well _boring_ , for lack of a better word. No one ever comes into the shop at this time of year—because who really wants to order ice cream when it's negative digits outside and your fingers feel like they're going to freeze and fall off? Not Percy, that's who! Not anyone actually. Well, other than that weird kid—Will or Wallace or whatever his name is—that comes in every day at four o'clock sharp and buys pear and blue cheese gelato—which, _eww?_ Why would anyone want to order freaking pear and blue cheese gelato? That's actually the most disgusting thing he's ever heard of. Percy doesn't even know _why_ they keep that in stock. It's probably that Will—Walt? Walsh?—kid's fault, he's the only one that ever orders the damn stuff.

One waffle cone of pear and blue cheese gelato. Without fail. Every. Damn. Day.

Pear and blue cheese.

Why does that even exist? Who in their right mind thought that would be an okay ice cream flavor? Who seriously sat down and thought that people would enjoy that? Freaking Ben and Jerry that's who. _Those assholes_. A million god damn flavor combinations they could make and they choose pear and blue fucking cheese.

Anyway, yeah. Working at an ice cream shop in the middle of Winter is like watching paint dry, only a lot colder and quite a bit messier thanks to Jason I-fall-down-a-lot Grace and his two left feet. Jason's situation is kind of strange. He's one of the better players on the football team in the fall and he plays soccer in the spring—is the team's captain actually—but as soon as you take him off the field he turns into a baby deer that can't stop tripping over it's too long legs. Kind of like Bambi. Adorable, but kind of a safety hazard. The Jason situation would probably be funny, too, if Percy wasn't the one that had to clean up after him every time he broke something.

And the day's been slow. Like, criminally slow. Like, so slow that Percy is getting paid to sit on his ass and watch Netflix on his phone for the majority of his shift. The shop has been open since seven, and since Percy started his shift at noon the only customers have been a couple of high school kids skipping class (they shoved a five in the tip jar when Percy gave them a look, and he wonders if it's morally wrong that his silence can be bought for only five dollars), a clearly exasperated father and his three children, all of which were clearly under the age of ten (Percy gave him an extra scoop of double chunk chocolate and the man's smile seemed to become a _little_ more genuine after that), and a man wearing a banana costume that ordered a banana split and walked away giggling.

Sometime between the exhausted dad and the giggly banana man, Travis joined him up front at the counter, texting someone rapidly and grinning like an idiot when they responded. Percy didn't ask who he was talking to. Partly because he really didn't care, and partly because if Travis got arrested for something, Percy couldn't be charged with aiding and abetting a criminal. Recently, Travis begun constructing what looks like a castle made out of cheap plastic ice cream bowls and colorful popsicle sticks, as Percy moved on to some weird nature documentary he needed to watch for his philosophy course.

Everything is fine. The shop is quiet, Grover is taking inventory in the back, Percy is actually enjoying a learning experience, and Nico, Jason, and Connor are entering the shop to start their afterschool shift, disappearing into the back to put on their uniforms with greetings ranging in enthusiasm (Connor vaults over the counter and slaps Percy on the back, Jason gives him a wide grin, and Nico just scowls at the classy black vest in his hands as Jason drags the younger boy into the back). The snow has stopped, the birds are chirping, and Percy has made enough tips to pick up a large pizza—maybe even two pizzas—on his way back to the dorms. Life is good. Everything is great.

And then Travis Stoll stops making his popsicle stick castle and opens his big mouth.

Percy sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as he pauses his documentary and wishes Travis had just kept his mouth shut for once.

"Hey, Percy?" he starts casually, fiddling with a purple popsicle stick and acting all _too_ nonchalant. Travis isn't nonchalant. He's the exact opposite of nonchalant. Travis is a prankster and a pickpocket, and the only time he acts casual is when he wants something or something green and gooey is about to explode.

Percy side-eyes him, hands clenching just a little bit tighter as Travis begins to pick at his nails. He glances Travis up and down, looking for anything that might give him away. His left leg is jiggling against his stool, practically trembling, rather than bouncing normally.

His lips twist down in a grimace. That's not an I've-just-pranked-someone leg jiggle. The I've-just-pranked-someone leg jiggle is less of a jiggle and more or a legs-swinging-in-absolute-glee-as-I-wait-for-someone-to-get-punked.

So, he's probably _not_ going to be covered in some strange viscous material, at least, not here at work. That means it's the other thing. Travis wants something, and frankly that's probably worse. At least if Percy's covered in green goo he gets to go home early and skip out on the last half of his shift. If Travis wants something, that means Percy's going to be here for a while.

He rolls his eyes as he realizes what Travis wants. The same thing Travis _always_ wants. And Percy isn't falling for it again. "Nope," he tells Travis, not bothering to look at him. He won't be tricked again. He _will not_ be tricked into staying in this ice cream shop all damn night. Not this time. "I don't wanna work the late shit for you again so that you can go fail at flirting with Katie Gardner."

The first time Percy met Katie Gardner, he accidentally stepped on one of her newly planted flower beds when he was in a hurry to get to class and she screamed at him for twenty minutes about how it's "people like you that are destroying the environment!" He was too embarrassed to go to class, so he ended up sulking here at the shop until almost midnight because he was afraid she would still be out there.

At least he and Katie have worked out their differences and get along now. Travis? Travis is a completely different story. He openly antagonizes Katie. Pranking her and decorating her dorm room flower-box with chocolate bunnies on Easter. Apparently, it's some kind of weird, longstanding rivalry between the two that's been going on since they were only in high school.

The way Percy sees it, Travis is kind of like a middle school boy that teases the girl he likes, completely inept, but at least he's trying! Though, Percy doesn't understand why Travis would go out of his way to incur the wrath of Katie Gardner.

Travis, he decides, is a masochist.

He glances at a sputtering Travis, whose blue eyes have gone wide, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as he stares back at Percy, aghast. "Wha—what?" he sputters, shoving his messy chestnut hair out of his eyes. "Me?" Travis scoffs. "Why would you think I was going to ask something like that? I would never!" He places a hand on his chest, looking at Percy like he'd just offended his grandmother. "Also I am not failing at flirting with Katie!" he tacks on as an afterthought, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, you are!" someone shouts from the back, voice muffled by the wall. A second voice snickers in response to the first, but Percy can't tell who. Probably Connor. It's usually Connor

Travis gasps, and whirls around on his spinning stool, glaring at the back room. His hand flies up, an accusing finger pointing towards the invisible culprit. "No one asked you, di Angelo!"

He spins back around just as quickly, looking at Percy with wide, pleading eyes.

Percy doesn't fall for it.

He's already shaking his head by the time Travis looks at him. "No," he repeats, setting down his phone and crossing his arms. "You've tricked me into working the late shift for you _five times_ in the past two months," he reminds Travis, glaring at him halfheartedly. "I'm not doing it again!"

Travis whistles, laughing lightly. "Five times? Really?" he snickers.

Percy's frown deepens as he rolls his eyes. "Yes."

Travis's gives him a grin that's more teeth than anything else, and Percy is suddenly reminded of a wolf. A brunette wolf that Percy kind of wants to strangle.

"Doesn't that say a little bit more about you than it does about me, though?" Travis asks him, smiling wider.

Would he be fired if he just picked up Travis, brought him outside, and tossed him in the dumpster where he belongs? Probably not, actually. Chiron is a pretty cool boss, so Percy could totally get away with it. He could just lie about it, too. Say a strange, masked man swooped in and grabbed Travis before Percy could stop him. The others would back him up.

Though, Chiron would definitely be disappointed in him. And if there's one thing Percy hates, it's disappointing the people he cares about. Chiron would be all "you're the manager, Percy" and "you've got to be more responsible, Percy" and "I trusted you, Percy." Well Percy didn't even want to be the manager, so there! He can barely take care of himself, let alone two pickpockets, a golden boy, and a Goth kid that keeps _badgering him_ about a slam poetry night—because, _dammit, Nico! This is an ice cream shop! Take your damn slam poetry somewhere else!_

Percy's glare intensifies. "I'm not working the late shift again," he says firmly. "Go ask someone else."

Like Piper. Or Thalia. Or Bianca! You know, the other three people that are supposed to work at _Kairos_ , _but are never here_. Yeah, those people.

Travis huffs, groaning and falling forward onto the counter, reminding Percy of a dying walrus or a beached whale.

"Oh, come on, Percy! Please? She's going to say yes to a date this time, I can feel it!" Travis pleads, giving him a pouty look that Percy doesn't trust for a second. The one and only time he trusted that look, he ended up covered in peanut butter and streaking through the streets of Manhattan.

Yeah, he's not falling for that again.

"That's what you said the last three times!"

Travis's forehead thumps against the counter. "But, Percy—" he starts to whine, only be cut off by the front door opening the little bell over the door chiming obnoxiously.

A tall figure steps into the shop, covered from head to toe in so much winter gear that Percy is vaguely reminded of a marshmallow. A shivering, six-and-a-half feet tall marshmallow.

Travis glances at the figure, disinterested, and finally goes back to messing with his popsicle sticks, going cross-eyed as he tries to balance one precariously on the bridge of his nose. It's not working, of course but it makes for an interesting sight.

Percy glances back at the customer, making sure they aren't looking before his arm shoots out and whaps Travis on the side of the head. The popsicle stick flies off his nose and audibly skitters across the floor of the now silent shop, and Travis loses his balance and tumbles off his stool onto the floor.

He glares up at Percy, but otherwise doesn't move.

That's fine. Travis can just stay down there. It's not like he was really helping to man the counter anyway. Percy glances at the popsicle stick castle, then decides to just ignore that too.

The giant marshmallow man is still hovering near the front door, now wrestling with his absurdly long scarf—seriously the thing has to be at least seven feet long. Who the hell needs a scarf that's that long?

While the man takes his time, Percy decides to rehearse his greeting in his head. Maybe something like—

" _Welcome to_ Kairos _! Please keep your hands and feet on your side of the counter at all times! Also, please note that the Stolls will probably steal your wallet and Jason might accidentally drop your ice cream on your shoes and then, while apologizing to you profusely, he might trip over himself and end up falling onto our tray of free samples here on the counter! Then, I'll get yelled at by my boss and have to work overtime to pay for any damages caused! How may I help you?"_

—yeah, maybe he should skip the greeting.

The walking marshmallow finally frees himself from his scarf prison, and Percy realizes he knows the guy.

Christopher Rodriguez blinks back at him from across the shop, raising a hand in a quick wave as he shivers and tugs his jacket tighter around him. His dark hair is windblown beneath his hat, messy curls looking a bit frozen at the tips, and he's struggling to pull off his mittens. His dark eyes narrow at the cloth covering his hands, before finally ripping them off with his teeth.

Now, Percy doesn't know Chris all that well. Just that he's not originally from New York and moved to the city about four years ago from one of the warmer states down in the South West—Texas, maybe? New Mexico?—and that he's dating Percy's former nemesis, Clarisse la Rue.

Percy and Clarisse have since come to an understanding—and have even become friends, sort of. It's more of a friendly rivalry than anything else. Clarisse doesn't try to kill him anymore, so that's good—but he'll never forget the time in freshman year when Clarisse shoved his _head in a toilet_.

"Oh, hey, Chris," he greets awkwardly, giving a short wave at the newcomer. "What are you doing here?" Percy asks, receiving a strange look from Chris. Just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, Percy winces, feeling like slapping himself at the stupid question. He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut. "Never mind, this is an ice cream shop, why else would you be here."

Chris simply nods in reply, then steps up to the counter quietly.

If he sees Travis pouting on the floor, he chooses not to mention it.

"So," Percy starts slowly, wondering if he's supposed to actually make conversation. It seems like the polite thing to do. He and Chris aren't exactly strangers, hell, Percy might even consider the other guy his _friend_ , but Chris has never really seemed like one for conversation. He's always been quiet like that. Always there, but seemingly off in his own world.

He clears his throat. "You're pretty bundled up there," he notes. "Is it really that cold today?"

Chris sends him what Percy thinks might be an exasperated look and the tension leaves him, Chris suddenly looking much more comfortable in the shop.

He shrugs, sending Percy a small grin. "I'm from Arizona," he says, "it's always cold here." He makes a face at that, and Percy laughs.

"Right," he snickers. "So, ice cream!" He points at Chris. "The usual? Or are you feeling adventurous today?" he jokes, hoping he isn't overstepping some boundary. Clarisse would kill him if he did.

Chris suddenly turns bright red, and this time it's not because of the cold. "Umm," he clears his throat, embarrassed as he sputters a bit. "Well, it's not really for me." He shrugs, and Percy's head tilts to the side in confusion. "It's, well, it's for Clarisse," he finally babbles out. "It's, you know, that time of the month," he finishes quietly.

"Oh," is Percy's oh so intelligent response to that tidbit of information. (Because how else is he supposed to reply? Is he supposed to apologize? No, that seems like a bad idea on so many levels, Chris isn't the one that's _bleeding_ —and he should stop right there.) Wow, umm, okay. He, umm, didn't need to know that. He _really_ didn't need to know that.

"Aww!" Travis suddenly gushes from his sprawled position on the floor, sending Chris a toothy grin. "It's adorable that you're buying your girlfriend period ice cream, Chris! It really is!" Travis shoots Chris a double thumbs up and wiggles his eyebrows. Percy kind of wants to kick him while he's down. "Rackin' in the points! Or is she making you do it?" he asks, quirking a brow.

Chris looks like he wants to crawl under a rock and die, and Percy kind of wants to do the exact same thing.

The other male clears his throat, rubbing the back of his head and looking down at his shoes, the snow from his boots melting into a puddle beneath him.

Yeah, Percy can't wait to clean that up.

"It's a surprise…" Christ tells them, trailing off awkwardly.

Travis whoops from the floor. " 'Atta boy!" he shouts, cackling. "You're the true MVP here, Chris!" he gushes, making Chris turn even more red. Travis doesn't stop though, he just keeps babbling incoherently about Chris being a "super great guy!" Which just makes Chris more and more uncomfortable.

Percy rolls his eyes, wondering if Travis is just fooling around, but then he catches the wistful look on his friend's face, and the smile on his lips. For a split second, he even reconsiders taking the late shift.

He looks back at Chris, deciding to ignore the love guru on the floor. "Ignore him," he says, kicking Travis in the leg. The other man yelps and kicks back, but misses. "Peach right?" he asks Chris, who nods. "All right, I'll be right back."

Percy smiles at Chris one last time, then glares down at Travis, who merely blinks back. "And you? Shut up and go clean a table or something! Stop harassing our customers!" he hisses, heading to the back.

"But, Percy!" Travis calls after him. "Chris and I are friends! Aren't we, Chris?"

Chris doesn't respond.

Percy shakes his head as disappears through the archway leading into the back half of the shop, laughing lightly as he does.

For the most part, he isn't surprised by what he sees when he enters the back. Grover is pretending to do inventory, but is really just curled up between two large tubs of vanilla gelato, his phone shoved in his grinning face, Rasta cap nearly falling off his head. Jason is arguing with Nico, who doesn't want to put on the uniform vest, despite working here for nearly a year, and Connor is laughing at them, vest buttoned haphazardly.

Surprisingly, the back isn't a complete disaster like it usually is at this point. Yet. There's still time for Jason to break something or Nico to deck Connor and knock over an entire shelf of gelato. Or, maybe Grover will start another damn fire like last time. Percy has no idea how that even happened, but it took a week to clean up the back.

Nothing's happened yet, but it will. Something always happens, without fail. It's just a matter of when and how at this point.

Three heads snap his way when he enters the back, and Percy freezes, wondering if he should have sent Travis back instead. But no. Travis would just make things worse. He would add fuel to the fire and then suddenly there would be fighting and police and they would all be hauled away by the NYPD—and Percy _cannot_ be arrested again. Not now.

And then suddenly everyone's yelling and Percy feels like his head is going to explode.

"Percy! Nico won't put on his vest!" Jason shouts, pointing an accusing finger in Nico's direction, then shooting a glare at the younger boy, who sends back a poisonous look.

Nico practically growls. "Would you stop trying to make me wear the damn vest?" he snarls back. "I don't want to wear it, Jason! It's itchy and it makes me look like a nerd!"

"It's a uniform! You have to wear it!" Jason argues back. "That's the whole point of a uniform! God, you do this everyday! Why can't you just make this easy for all of us?!"

Connor just keeps cackling.

This is all way above Percy's pay grade.

Nico opens his mouth to snap something back, and Percy decides that now is a good time to cut in. You know, before an all out brawl starts and they all end up fired.

"All right, that's enough," Percy breaks in loudly, crossing his arms and glaring at the three boys, lips twisting into a frown. The effect of bringing out "Serious Percy" is instantaneous: Connor shuts up, the smile slipping from his lips, Nico looks away, running a hand through his hair—a nervous tick, and Jason's gaze drops to his shoes. Even Grover stops staring at his phone to glance at Percy, worry in his eyes.

Percy squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath. He doesn't like this side of himself—doesn't like yelling at them and being the bad guy, but someone's got to.

He sighs heavily, running a hand through his dark hair and opening his eyes to see three pairs of wide eyes staring back at him. "Connor," the boy snaps to attention at the sound of his name, "go out front and help your brother clean the tables, and keep him away from the customers." The boy gives a solute and a wink before darting out to the front. "Nico," he turns to the next boy, "please, just put on the vest." Nico shoots him a sour look, but finally complies, finally yanking off his sweatshirt and reaching for his uniform shirt with a sulky expression. "And Jason," Percy meets a pair of wide, blue eyes and sighs again. "Just don't break anything."

Jason nods and disappears, off to organize something in the back. Or maybe grab more spoons. Something safe that won't allow Jason to accidentally destroy something.

Percy rubs a tired hand down his face, walking over to the peach ice cream off to Grover's right, nudging his friends leg with his foot as he passes. Grover reaches out from his hiding spot and whacks Percy's leg in response, grumbling something under his breath that Percy ignores.

He grabs a take away bowl from the cabinet about Grover, who makes a face at him when Percy glances down. "What?" he asks, laughing slightly at the disgust on Grover's face.

"Peach ice cream is so weird," he murmurs back, wrinkling his nose.

Percy rolls his eyes. "It's better than freaking Wallace and his stupid pear and blue cheese concoction from Hell," he snarks back, opening the tub and grabbing a scoop.

"Will."

"Hmm?" Percy glances up from the peach ice cream, pausing mid scoop. Nico is standing in the archway, looking back at him. "What was that, Nico?"

The younger boy shrugs nonchalantly. "Will," he repeats. "His name is Will, not Wallace." He turns on his heel and disappears from the room.

Percy merely shrugs and goes back to scooping Clarisse's peach ice cream into a blue, plastic take away container. By the time he's done, Grover is back to being engrossed in his phone, a dopey smile on his face that can only mean he's been texting Juniper all afternoon.

"So," he starts slowly, putting a cover on the bowl before closing the ice cream tub. Grover peaks up at him briefly, but that's all. "Are you going to come up front, or continue to sit back here and pretend to take inventory for the rest of the night?" he asks his friend jokingly, nudging him again.

Grover rolls his eyes. "I am taking inventory," Grover huffs. Percy quirks a brow at him, glancing at Grover's little blanket cocoon between the ice cream tubs, and Grover blushes crossing his arms as his phone vibrates in his hand.

"Yeah," Percy agrees, "inventory of what Juniper's wearing," he finishes slyly.

Grover sputters. "I am not _sexting_ Juniper!" he shouts, then winces at his volume and lowers his voice. Percy really hopes that no one out front heard that. "Percy, I'm not _sexting_ Juniper! You can't just say things like that!"

Percy laughs. "I didn't say you were _sexting_ Juniper, Grover," he reminds him. And technically it's true. Percy didn't _say_ anything about sexting, just a mild insinuation that could or could not have been taken in the direction Grover took it. That's all.

"You implied it," his friend scoffs back, pointedly ignoring his buzzing phone.

Percy grins. "Actually I was implying that Juniper has been showing you possible date night outfits for the past hour, but hey! You're the one with the dirty mind!" he teases, laughing at his friend's flustered expression.

"I hate you."

He laughs again. "Love you, too, Grover," he coos back, ruffling his friend's curly hair. Grover glares up at him as he fixes his hat. "So are coming out front?" he asks, already knowing the answer. Grover never likes to come out front, not unless it's before or after hours.

"Nah," he shrugs. "You seem to have it covered," he laughs, though it sounds weak. "You're the charismatic one, Percy," he finishes almost bitterly, smile dampening. Then, he glances up with a smile, whacking Percy's shin. "Besides, someone has to watch Jason."

Percy decides not to comment on the charisma remark. Or about how Grover isn't exactly sitting back here and _watching_ Jason. He'll let Grover be, at least for today. There's enough of them working for Grover to stay in the back, after all.

He nods at Grover, patting him on the shoulder before heading back to the front. And everything seems all right again. Connor and Travis are both wiping down the booths, Nico is filling plastic containers with napkins and spoons, and Chris is right where Percy left him, though looking much more comfortable without Travis gushing at him about who knows what.

"Here you go, Chris!" He smiles, handing over the ice cream container. "I went with a large because, well, yeah. I hope that's okay." He probably should have asked first, but oh well. Chris doesn't really seem to mind as he simply nods, and hands over a ten, telling Percy to keep the change before he turns on his heel and leaves, winding his long scarf back around him before disappearing out the door.

Percy takes a slow look around the room, gaze drifting over his coworkers languidly, smiling as Connor swats at Travis with a wet rag, which smacks his bother across the mouth with a wet "plop." Working at a New York ice cream shop in the middle of Winter, Percy decides, is a hell of a lot better than watching paint dry. Because at least he has good company.

Percy grins and is just about to agree to take the late shift for Travis when a horrible crashing sound comes from the back, like a million tubs of ice cream have just fallen down and splattered across the floor that Percy had just washed an hour ago. That clean, white floor that Percy wipes down every other hour so that it stays spotless. That floor.

And it's probably covered in fifty flavors of ice cream.

"Uh, Percy!" a nervous Jason calls from the back, voice quivering just the slightest.

On second thought, he'd rather be watching paint dry.

* * *

 **AN: Both Annabeth and Will should appear in the next few chapters, though I can;t say for sure when! This will probably be slow burn, so please keep that in mind! I'm thinking that most of this story will be from Percy's (3rd person) perspective, though I might try my hand at writing from Nico's as well. I'd love to hear what you guys have to say, so be sure to drop a review before you go!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Kairos**

 **Chapter Two**

* * *

"Look, I'm just saying that that's not a normal ice cream flavor," Percy snaps back, glaring at Nico from his spot on the other side of the counter before snatching the pencil out of his hand. Nico rolls his eyes and throws his hands into the air, clearly fed up with having this conversation _again_. For the fifth time _today_. Hell, Percy is sick of the damn gelato discourse too, but he's not going to stop until pear and blue cheese gelato is _banned_ from this shop. Forever. Never to return again. If he has to order another ten gallon tub of that nasty ass gelato, he's going to rip off his boot and eat it. And jokes on them! If he eats his boot, then _all of them_ are going to be having a really shitty day as they rush Percy to the hospital because of the damn leather in his intestines and frostbitten toes.

So, ha! Who's laughing now, Nico?

The aforementioned boy sighs through his nose and rubs his forehead, before locking his tired eyes with Percy's green one's. His open oceanography textbook lays forgotten on the counter between them as Percy twirls Nico's pencil between his fingers. "Percy," he half-whines, "just let it go." The younger boy sends him another half-hearted glare and what Percy thinks is a pout. "You're acting like a child."

Yeah, says the whining, pouting fifteen-year-old that looks like the poster child of early two-thousand's pop-punk music. The pencil in his hand stops spinning. _Wait_ , Percy thinks about the piercings in his ears and the ripped jeans and leather jacket and useless but fashionable fingerless gloves shoved into said leather jacket adorning his dorm room floor, _maybe_ he's _the poster child of early two-thousand's pop-punk music_.

He resists the urge to run a hand through his messy hair. He's… he's Nico, only older and nicer and with better hair. God, this is horrible! Percy is too young to be a role model! He can barely roll himself out of bed on the weekend, how is he supposed to show Nico how to be a proper gentleman-punk? Percy doesn't know how to adult, yet!

Is this what an existential crisis feels like?

Percy squeezes his eyes shut, counting to ten silently before opening his eyes once more. Nico peers at him curiously, brows pinched together and head cocked to the side. He shakes his head, tossing the mechanical pencil back at the younger male with a flick of the wrist. It catches Nico off-guard, bouncing off his forehead before clattering to the floor. The other boy curses, slapping a hand to his stinging skin before ducking down to swipe the projectile off the ground.

He pops back up glaring at Percy, who merely shrugs and tries to dismiss the absurd notion that he's _Nico_ , only older and more smooth with the ladies. Which, frankly, isn't really saying much. Nico is horrible with people in general, so anyone is a step up from him, but Percy? He's "charismatic" as Grover so kindly put it. He's friendly and funny and nice enough, but when it comes to girls he's always saying the wrong thing or being " _too_ sassy," says Grover.

 _Blasphemy_ , Percy thinks. There's no such thing as "to much" sass. Sass is a fundamental part of who Percy is. I he doesn't let it out he'll blow up, and then they'll have to call in the hazmat team to clean up Percy-bits off the walls and wonder why he suddenly exploded. Besides, if the girls can't handle his sass, they _obviously_ aren't the one for him.

(He tries not to think about the times when girls have walked out on a date with him because of his bog mouth. Plural. As in, three dates. In the past year. So far, there hasn't been a second date. Awesome.)

His gaze snaps back to Nico, the "child" comment still a fresh wound. "I don't care!" he growls half-heartedly. "There's something inherently wrong with ordering pear and blue cheese gelato when there are a thousand other flavors to choose from!" He slams his hand down on the counter, causing Jason, who's been dozing on the stool beside Nico for the better part of an hour, to snap awake with so much force that he ends up slapping himself in the face with a arm that's fallen asleep—which is freaking _hilarious_ , but he's too frustrated to laugh.

Percy ignores him and tries not to think about the small puddle of drool where Jason's head used to be. Which Percy _will_ have to clean up, since he seems to be the only competent person here.

Nico scoffs. "Yeah," he agrees slowly, "and the same could be said for blue food." He shrugs as Percy gasps in shock, and Jason stops prodding at his rapidly swelling nose long enough to send Nico a look of horror, muttering a soft "dude" under his breath and shaking his head. Travis and Connor stop wiping down the tables, exchanging a nervous look before glancing back at the counter.

Percy wonders if "betrayal" could be used as a legitimate excuse for firing someone. Actually, he's the manager, he can do whatever the hell he wants!

He stares at Nico, jaw clenching tightly, knuckles turning white as his grip tightens on the counter. "Take it back," he says softly—slowly—the words heavy on his tongue. It would have been far kinder of Nico to just punch him in the face, but blue food? That is an insult to everything Percy stands for. That is an insult to Percy's _mother_ —the absolute nicest lady in the world and best mother ever—and he will not stand for that. He absolutely will _not_. "Apologize," he tells Nico, deathly serious, "or I'll lock you in the freezer."

Is it an empty threat? Maybe. Is it humane to lock someone in an ice cream freezer? No. Would Chiron fire him for it? Probably. Would he go to jail? Only if the cops find out.

Nico sighs, slowly closing his oceanography textbook when it becomes apparent that their tutoring session is officially over (hell yeah, it's over, Nico! You can't just insult someone's mom and expect to get a free tutoring lesson! Maybe, he should start charging…). "Percy," Nico groans, "would you just let it—"

"You take it back!" Percy hisses, cutting him off and stabbing a finger in the younger boys direction. "You've insulted my mother, Nico— _my mother_! What has she ever done to you, Nico? Nothing that's what!" Percy snaps, throwing his hands in the air with a huff. "She bakes you cookies on your birthday. She drives you to the hospital three times a year when Jason breaks your arm—"

"Hey!" Jason interjects, offended. (His voice is nasally, and his nose is turning purple at the edges, and Percy vaguely realizes that Jason has probably broken his nose, and they might need to bring him to a doctor. Great.)

None of them hear the little bell above the door chime as someone slips open the door.

"Shut up Jason!" Percy snaps, turning back to Nico. "She loves you like a son and—"

"Okay!" Nico shouts. "Okay, I'm sorry! Just shut the hell up!" he continues, slamming his head onto the counter. "For the love of—you are the single most insufferable person I have ever—"

"Me?" Percy gasps. "You're the one the who insulted my mother!"

"You threatened to lock me in a freezer!" Nico snaps back, throwing his arms up and looking like he wants to beat Percy to death with the oceanography textbook still sitting on the counter between them. "That's not even legal, Percy! What the fu—"

"Umm," a quiet voice interjects, "am I interrupting something?" Percy's gaze snaps up to peer over Nico's head, and Nico freezes in place, flushing, the tips of his ears turning a bit red as he recognizes the voice.

Will Fucking Solace. Freaking pear and blue cheese boy. The bane of Percy's existence. He's committed the kid's name to memory, should Percy ever need to find and _destroy_ him. Speaking of which, they're almost— _almost_ out of this kid's nasty gelato and Percy refuses to buy another tub of it. He _refuses_. If Will Fucking Solace makes him order another tub today, Percy's going to vault over this counter and throttle him. His going to ban Will Solace from this shop if it's the last thing he ever does.

And doesn't Will just look so innocent with his shaggy blonde hair and big blue eyes? Doesn't he know that he's the reason Percy doesn't want to go to work every morning?

Will Fucking _Soulless_ , that's what he should've been named.

"No!" Nico suddenly blurts, standing up so fast that he knocks his books on to the floor and nearly smacks Jason in the face with a flailing arm. "No! We were just—talking and—yeah!"

Travis and Connor snicker at Nico's flustered words, but quickly try to cover it up with obnoxious coughing when Nico sends them a dirty look. Will just frowns, confused.

"Is he okay?" Will asks, jerking a thumb in Jason's direction. Percy glances at the younger employee, who's begun to bruise rapidly now and keeps prodding at his nose and whimpering.

Percy rolls his eyes. "He'll be fine."

Just a normal day at the gelato shop: Connor and Travis are being shitheads, Grover is hiding the back, Jason is breaking things—be it the shop or himself, and Nico is becoming flustered around the attractive male customers. Meanwhile, Percy just wants to go home, sleep, and try not to think about finals week coming up. Maybe cry a little bit and eat more pizza than he should. Something like that.

Will doesn't look convinced, but really, he seems more occupied with making goo-goo eyes at Nico than making sure Jason isn't going to drop dead any second, so, frankly, Percy thinks the concern is wasted. Jason is fine, but Nico looks like he might melt into a puddle is Will keeps staring at him like that, so, with a heavy heart, Percy realizes it's time for him to actual _earn_ his paycheck and get Will his nasty gelato.

Percy clears his throat loudly, and suddenly everyone in the room is looking at him with wide eyes and varying degrees off horror. Oh, please. He just cleared his throat and they're all looking at him like he just threatened to blow up he Williamsburg Bridge. Babies.

"So," Percy starts slowly, "what brings you hear, Will?" His smile is tight, phony as a one of those ridiculous plastic plants, but Will doesn't appear to notice as he grins back.

"Right!" He steps up to the counter, nearly knocking shoulders with Nico who looks about ready to pass out. As funny as that would be, Nico's on the clock and Percy kind of needs another competent worker, considering Grover is still hiding and Jason is clearly incapacitated at the moment. "I'll just have the usual," he tells Percy, shrugging.

 _The usual_ , Percy thinks mockingly. Not today, he decides. Will will not be getting that gelato today. Percy is going to make Will see the light. Whether that be due to an epiphany or death is entirely up to young William here.

Wait, is Will even short for William? Probably. Actually, Percy doesn't care. William Solace it is. That's his name now. As manager of the gelato shop, Percy declares it law.

"Are you sure?" Percy asks Will, leaning forward, forearms braced against the counter top. Will gives him an odd look, and begins to turn a brilliant shade of red. "Are you really sure that's what you want, Will?" he asks again, slower this time, head bent so he's eye-level with the younger boy.

"I—" the blond chokes out, tongue-tied. "What?" Will swallows thickly, eyes impossibly wide as he stares at Percy, more than a little confused. Good Percy wants him to be confused. Let him question all of his horrible life choices, starting with his regular choice in gelato.

Is this horrible of Percy? Most definitely. Does he care? Nope.

Percy grins for real this time. "Are you sure you want your usual order?" he clarifies, getting some kind of sick enjoyment out of watching both Will and Nico squirm. Good, let them squirm. They're both horrible people. Blue cheese loving, mother insulting, horrible people. "You don't want to try the special this week? Or chocolate? Or, really anything else? Anything at all?" You know, something normal?

Behind Will, Connor and Travis snicker, then start whispering before Travis hands Connor what Percy hopes is money. It's that, or Percy just witnessed a drug deal in his store with his very own eyes. He's not really sure what he just saw. He's too tired for this. He's a sad, tired, "adult" that made the terrible decision of taking an eight AM class without thinking of the repercussions. Finals are coming up and he's running off a grand total of three hours of sleep and four cups of coffee—which reminds him that he really needs to pee—and he just wants to go curl up in the back room and hide there until his shift is over.

He doesn't want to adult.

(He's blowing this way out of proportion. Travis and Connor probably just made a bet. Of what, he isn't sure. Maybe when Percy would finally blow a gasket—not that he's blown a gasket yet. He's just very, very close to doing so. Like, super close. Like, if he ever has to hear the phrase "pear and blue cheese" again he'll probably murder Will Solace in his sleep and wind up in jail and— _wow_ he really needs to get some sleep. He's being an asshole today.)

"N—no," Will says, clearing his throat. "I'll just, umm, stick with the usual." He glances at Nico out of the corner of his eye, but the other boy is too busy messing with a cup full of straws to notice.

Percy smiles. "No."

Several things happen at once. Nico drops the straw container, sending it crashing to the floor. Straws scatter, rolling away and disappearing into the void never to be seen again. The Stolls stop wiping down the tables, their eyes so wide they look like they're about to pop out. Jason makes a terrible wheezing sound as he inhales sharply through his nose. There's a clatter from the backroom as Grover drops something onto the recently cleaned wood floors. Will's jaw drops, and whoever thought up the phrase "the customer is always right" begins to roll in their grave.

And Percy? He just smiles.

That one little word feels so good to say.

Will's mouth moves, but the only sound that leaves him is strangled—making him sound like a beached whale as he gapes at Percy, blinking rapidly. His head cocks to the side, and for a moment Percy feels bad, because Will looks exactly like the golden retriever puppy his mom's neighbor adopted—all big puppy eyes and curly hair, but sans the snout and wet kisses—well, Percy can't really comment on that last one.

"What?" Will finally manages to squeak out. "I'm sorry, I—"

"We ran out!" Percy lies smoothly, one of his many talents with his mouth. (Others being: tying cherry stems into knots and touching his tongue to his nose.) "Over the weekend," he clarifies. "There was a sudden influx of people wanting to buy pear and blue cheese gelato, must be a new fad." No it isn't. The stuff is nasty and Percy wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole if he could help it. Hopefully if he keeps using big words Will will believe him.

Everyone always assumes he has a poor vocabulary, and honestly he's very offended by that. His mother is a _writer_ , of course he knows big words! He just doesn't like to use them because people like Connor and Travis can't understand them. That, and sometimes he can't remember what they mean, but that's beside the point.

"Oh?" Will sounds confused and—surprisingly—vaguely disgusted and relieved all at once. That's… kind of odd, coming from someone that buys it on the regular, but Percy doesn't question it. Maybe Will is a glutton for punishment. Percy won't judge—that's a lie, he totally will.

"Are you—are you sure?" Will asks him, still disgusted—relieved—whatever. "Like, are you sure, you're sure?" Is that—is that _hope_ on his face.

Will Solace is an odd one, that's for sure.

"Yeah!" Percy continues the charade, ignoring Jason's frantically shaking head and the violent buzzing in his pocket—probably Grover yelling at him. "We ran out and haven't been able to order a new tub yet! It was just, really sudden, you know? One minute it was half-full and the next it was empty!" Will looks shocked. "It was probably Grover's fault," Percy babbles, jerking a thumb towards the back room. "He's supposed to be in charge of inventory." A second later his phone starts buzzing again, in rapid succession.

Percy considers tossing it across the room.

Will doesn't seem to know what to say. "That's… that's too bad?" It sounds more like a question than anything, and the kid certainly doesn't look all that disappointed to Percy. Which is good, right? Because Percy may hate Will's choice in frozen desert, but he doesn't hate Will. In fact, he kind of likes the guy. He's smart, and witty. And he keeps Nico, Jason, and Connor out of trouble at school, which Percy appreciates more than anything.

(Percy would never say it out loud, but those three are his _kids_. Sure, he makes fun of them and considers doing them bodily harm from time to time, but he would do anything for them; and it kills him that he can't take care of them all the time like he used to. He can't protect them from the bullies at school, or keep them out of trouble and he _hates_ it.)

Percy just hums in semi-agreement. "That and we're thinking about downsizing on our flavors. No sense in keeping stock of that many during Winter. Especially when so many of them don't get eaten." Will nods along like he agrees. What a great guy. "So, yeah! We're downsizing!"

Jason frowns at him, confused, and presses an ice cream sandwich to his swelling nose. Percy has no idea where he got that from, but he better pay for it. He's pretty sure they can't sell ice cream that was used as an ice pack. "No we're not," Jason blurts, sending Percy an odd look.

Percy shoots him a glare, suddenly glad for his resting bitch face. "Yes, we are. Shut up Jason." Percy waves him off. "Do you want to pick something else?" he asks Will.

Before Will can answer, Nico speaks up, looking far too innocent. Percy has a bad feeling about this.

"But Percy," he says, giving him a sly smile, "we just got a new shipment of it this morning, remember?" No, because it didn't happen. Why does Nico have to ruin everything? "We're fully stocked!" the little punk says with fake enthusiasm, turning to grin at Will.

His crew is turning on him, he realizes morbidly. It's finally happened. They're mutinying and Percy's going to end up at the bottom of the Hudson River, swimming with the fishes. Mercilessly drowned by his own crew. How cruel of them. It was a good life he led—but alas, all good things must come to an end. At least he'll get out of taking his calc final. That's a good thing.

"Right." Percy sends Nico a tight-lipped smile, silently promising to put Nico on bathroom duty for the rest of the month. "Must of slipped my mind! We've been pretty busy this morning!" No they haven't. "Plus, I'm getting old," he jokes. Nineteen sure _feels_ old. "I forget things!" He needs a nap. "I'll go get that for you!"

"No!" Nico blurts, standing suddenly and nearly tripping over his still downed textbook. Will and Percy both stare at him wide-eyed and Nico turns an interesting shade of red. "I mean—I'll get it!" He laughs awkwardly. "My break ended at some point when Percy was screaming at me earlier—"

Percy huffs. "I wouldn't have to yell at you if you would just—"

Nico continues as if Percy had never spoken. "Yeah! So I better earn my keep!" Will blinks at him. "You know, do my job!" He cringes and looks about ready to spontaneously combust if it means getting out of this situation. Percy can understand that. That's how he feels ninety-percent of the time.

"I'll just go now," Nico disappears into the back without another word, red-faced and awkwardly broody as usual.

And that just leaves Percy, Will, and Jason. Only one of them looks ready to cry, so Percy thinks today has been pretty swell so far. Swell? What the fuck? Why would he even— _swell_. God, he sounds like Grover's uncle. And Percy once saw Grover's uncle try to eat a tin-can when he was drunk. It was not a pretty sight.

For a moment, Percy considers, you know, _saying something_ to their customer, but then stops, figuring he's already shoved his foot far enough into his mouth for one day. Luckily, he doesn't have long to wait, because Nico is back with Will's gross order lickety-split, and then Will is smiling at Nico and Nico is smiling at Will, and then Jason's head 'thunks' onto the counter and Will is excusing himself _oh so politely_.

Nico doesn't move. Doesn't _breathe_. He simply stares after Will all starry-eyed. Percy suddenly gets it!

"Oh!" he laughs. "You've got a crush on pear and blue cheese boy!" He snickers. It's kind of adorable. He's never seen Nico with a crush before, and it's certainly entertaining! Wow, Nico likes Will. That's, well, that's wild. Kind of cute actually. Like one of those coffee shop AU fanfiction that Bianca writes in her free time.

He's happy for Nico. Will seems nice enough.

Nico's gaze snaps to Percy. "Hmm?" he asks, snapping out of his thoughts.

Percy slips a serious look onto his face, which isn't really all that hard. "I said you're fired," he jokes, trying to keep his lips from twitching into a smile as Nico stares at him in horror.

"For what?" Nico snaps, dark eyes going so wide that Percy's afraid they might pop out.

Percy simply stares back coolly. "Insubordination," he says casually, pretending to straighten up the counter. His smile betrays him though, and Nico rolls his eyes and slinks back to his seat beside Jason, scooping up his textbook as he does.

Connor snickers at the exchange.

"You're fired, too," Percy tells him.

Connor scoffs. "Oh, really? For what?"

Percy shrugs. "You're just annoying."

It's quiet for a moment, but then Connor speaks again. "Why are there never any girls in here?" he asks the rest of them, flopping down into one of the booths toward the front of the shop, voice muffled by the blue leather.

"Probably because you work here," Percy replies automatically, sighing to himself. He still has to pee.

A voice comes from the back. "Point, Percy!"

Nice. That solidifies his position in first place with a lead of, what? Ten points? He's lost track of the comeback competition. He just knows he's winning. At the end of the month, loser buys winner an ice cream of their choice, which is kind of a horrible prize considering they work at an ice cream place, but hey! They work with what they've got!

He's pretty sure Jason is losing this month. The kids just _too_ nice.

"Well," Nico starts, planning to answer Connor's question seriously. "Bianca is busy with college right now," he muses, flipping his textbook back open and yanking at his sloppy tie.

Connor's voice is still muffled when he murmurs something about not meaning girls that work here, so they all ignore him.

Travis scoffs at Nico. "Yeah, and so are the three of us—" he gestures to himself, Percy, and the still hidden Grover.

Nico sends him a look that says 'really?' "Yeah," he mocks, "but Bianca actually studies."

Travis shrugs in response, but Percy feels mildly offended. He studies! He studies super hard and _still_ has time to work here everyday and tutor Nico and Jason! That's actually really cold of Nico. Just because Percy does have his head shoved into a textbook at every waking moment, doesn't mean he doesn't study.

Jason nods along with Nico and decides to chime in. "And Thalia can only work weekends because she's busy with…" he trails off, frowning. "I don't actually know what she's busy with, to be honest," he admits, brows scrunching together.

"I heard she joined an all girls biker gang," Connor tells them, swinging legs the only part of him the rest can see.

Travis snorts, laughing a little. "I heard," he says slowly, "that she ran off with Luke Castellan and eloped," he whispers, wiggling his eyebrows.

Nico rolls his eyes. "Hardly," he spits. "She and Castellan broke it off after—" his gaze slips to Percy for a second, before dropping to the floor, refusing to meet his eyes.

Percy freezes, hands clenching into fists as a thousand different thoughts hit him at once, all of them things he doesn't want to remember. He shakes them off, fingers trembling.

Jason gives him an apologetic look. "And Piper is taking two AP classes this year!" he babbles, voice higher than usual. "So she's taking some time off to study!" He grins as he talks about his girlfriend, but it's nervous, and he keeps glancing at Percy like he might explode.

Travis laughs awkwardly, but it eases some of the tension in the suddenly too small room. "You high Schoolers," he jokes, rolling his eyes. "Always complaining about your work load!" He shakes his head. "Just wait 'til you get to college! Then you can complain!"

"Ah, high school," Percy says gruffly, faking enthusiasm. "The worst four years of my life." He means it as a joke, but it falls flat. Nico and Jason won't look at him, and for the first time ever, Travis seems at a loss for words.

"I miss it!" Grover suddenly shouts from the backroom, breaking the awkwardness up front.

"I miss my mom's cooking," Percy agrees.

Travis sighs. "I miss stealing Connor's clothes while he's in the shower."

"I miss not crying during finals week," Grover says cheerfully. Percy and Travis nod mournfully in agreement.

Jason blanches, looking between the college students with a horrified expression. "I would ask if you guys are okay," he tells them, "but you clearly aren't."

Percy rolls his eyes. "You're the one icing your nose with a sandwich," he reminds. "I hope you're paying for that later."

* * *

 **AN: Here it is! Will's first official appearance in the story!**

 **Next Chapter: Annabeth and Percy run into each other.**

 **Be sure to drop a review and tell me what you guys think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: The working title for this chapter was "Naked and Afraid"**

 **Kairos**

 **Chapter Three**

* * *

You know, this is not the way Percy expected his morning to be going. In fact, this is the exact opposite of how his morning was supposed to be going. It was just supposed to be a relaxing Saturday. No eight AM classes he would have to force himself to sit through. No swimming practice or weekend competitions. No work at the gelato shop. No _coworkers_ —he loves his friends, he really does, but sometimes he kind of wants to kill them and hide their bodies in a dumpster. Just a nice Saturday where he could sleep in until ten, wait until noon to take the subway to his mom's apartment and have a nice family dinner after not seeing them in almost three weeks because _finals are coming up and if he goes home he might burst into tears and refuse to come back_. It was just supposed to be a nice, quiet Saturday.

Except that it's not Saturday, it's _Friday_.

Meaning, in short, today is the worse Friday in the history of all Fridays. The absolute worst. Like, so bad that Percy kind of wishes he had just died in his sleep instead of waking up to a Friday that is totally _hellish_.

And maybe—maybe if he hadn't have woken up to the sound quacking—goddamn quacking a foot from his face—an unfortunate side effect of letting the Stolls borrow his phone the night before. And seriously? Travis is a asshole for doing that. He knows damn well what happened on the field trip to central park during third grade. Grover told him all about Percy unfortunate experience with a rabid goose—that bastard tried to _fuck him up_.

"Don't go near the goose," the chaperone said. Well, it wasn't that fucking simple. You can't just avoid the goose. The goose will find you. The goose will fuck with your mind. The goose will ruin your entire day and shit on everything you love. Those little shits can smell fear from a mile away, and that was something Percy learned the hard way on that godforsaken fieldtrip when one of the demon spawn had harassed him for his lunch, making off with both his ham on rye _and_ his left shoe.

Percy had done the logical nine-year-old thing: bawl his eyes out and develop a long-lasting, irrational feet of giant water fowl that hiss like some demonic entity had possessed it.

That is literally the only option when it comes to Satan with wings. Cry and hope it can't find you again. Holy water doesn't work. The power of Christ does not compel them. Garlic is a sham— _no wait_ , that's vampires.

Geese are more likely to poop on his shoes than eat him, but frankly he'd take dying over the goose poop.

Over-dramatic? Maybe, but he would rather face Gods and monsters than another goddamn goose.

Anyway, fuck Travis for changing his alarm to quacking. Percy is pretty sure he's going to need a new phone, considering he literally threw his across the room—accidentally bashing his roommate in the face with it and causing their nose to start gushing blood all over their floor—that's going to be a real mess to clean up later.

Percy's not sure which sound was worse: the quacking phone that nearly made him piss himself, his screaming in response to said quacking, or the sound that Grover's body made as it hit the floor when he passed out.

Luckily for Grover, he now has the day off to spend being coddled by his pretty girlfriend who might just strangle Percy later for almost breaking her boyfriend's nose. Almost being a key word there, but Juniper probably won't care about that minor detail.

He's going to kill Travis later. He's going to kill him, throw him in the back of Grover's shitty yellow Camero that he keeps at his uncle's place, and drive upstate and dump his body in the woods for the raccoons to find.

Of course, the day could only get better from there, right? Ha, nope! Because his alarm went off at six AM so he could get to practice on time. That shouldn't have been a problem, except Percy thought it was Saturday and not Friday and was a little distracted by Grover bleeding all over their dorm and the still furiously quacking phone that _probably_ should've broken when it decided to spontaneously break Grover's face.

Be that as it may, Percy did not make it to practice on time. Queue the disappointed lecture from his swim coach, a benching at their next meet—luckily not one that would count towards state this year—and a punishment that consisted of one-hundred-and-twenty laps.

On one hand, he did get out of his eight AM class. And his nine AM class. And his ten AM class. So the day so far hasn't been a _total_ bust. On the other hand, he's tired, hungry, his arms feel like they're going to fall off and roll away, and he still smells like chlorine despite taking an extra long shower with an excessive amount of fruity smelling body wash.

Sue him, he likes smelling like Mango Tango with a hint of lemon zest and coconut oil. Connor may have given it to him as a gag gift, but jokes on him, Percy loves it! And isn't that just the _best_ way to foil the Stolls? Connor nearly cried when Percy thanked him for the gift—and then proceeded to use the added coupon later that month when he ran out of the body wash.

Revenge smells like Mango Tango and it is glorious.

Besides, fruity is better than what ever the fuck his swim couch uses. The man smells like the essence of, well, _man_ : something like a combination of wet dog and dirty sweaty gym socks that have been overly-frebrezed—which did nothing to actually _help_ the smell and only made it infinitely worse.

Yeah he'll take Mango Tango over _that_ any day of the week.

Percy shakes his head as he yanks his shirt out of his locker, debating whether it would be worth his time to head back to his dorm for a quick nap before he has to head to work. On one hand, sleep! Sleep is always nice. On the other hand, he might sleep through work, which would throw the shop into a state of utter chaos with both of the responsible—a term he uses very liberally—adults being gone.

Jason would probably end up needing to go to a hospital again, the Stolls would light something on fire, and Nico would be a dick and refuse to put on his uniform, and Percy can't have that.

Also, if he goes home he might run into Juniper, and he can think of several reasons why that would be incredibly bad for his health. Namely, _death_. Percy enjoys living, thank you very much. Well, most of the time. Some days are worse than others, after all.

He grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut when he thinks about that dark period of his life back in his senior year of high school: Luke, Ethan— _the fire_.

Percy's eyes snap open and he slams the locker shut. The hinges shriek, metal grating against metal and the entire locker rattling as he stalks away without pause. jacket and shirt still clenched tightly in one hand.

Of course, the day is only half over, so logically something else has to go horribly wrong.

And it does.

Several very crucial things come together at once. First, his phone starts ringing, obnoxious ringing gaining his full attention, reminding him that his shift at the shop starts in exactly a half-hour—and he's exactly forty minutes from the shop walking distance, maybe half that if he sprints. Second, in his sulky everyone-hates-me state he had neglected to mop up the wet tile beside the pool, leaving a rather large, rather invisible puddle right between him and the exit doors. Third, Percy heaves an obnoxious sigh and throws his hands up in exasperation, looking up towards the ceiling in hopes that the gods might smite him where he stands.

Be that as it may, he doesn't see the slippery floor until his face is uncomfortably well-acquainted to it.

His shirt and jacket go flying, hovering in the air for a split second before crumpling into a heap directly in the center of the damn puddle, immediately being soaked with chlorinated pool water—he's going to have to burn that shirt now, the smell is never going to come out—his phone is still blaring— _you're going to be late Percy!_ —no fucking shit!—and now his face hurts like a bitch and is probably going to bruise, just like whatever pride he had left.

That's okay. He doesn't need his pride. Or his pretty face.

This is not what he meant when he asked the gods to smite him.

This day has officially moved into the top ten worst days of his life, just below the day Travis covered him in maple syrup—which he doesn't even want to think about. That was a messy day. Ha! _Puns_ —and knocking the day he was _literally tossed into a trashcan_ down to number eleven.

Admittedly, trashcan day wasn't so bad, but Percy crawled out of that dumpster mortified and covered in week-old orange jello. Come to think of it, that day was probably Travis's fault, too. God, Travis has to ruin everything for him. Percy's going to unfriend him as soon as he gets home.

Percy curses under his breath as he lurches to his feet, running a hand down the side of his tender face as he hurries to silence his _still ringing_ phone. Once the damn thing shuts up, he turns to his soggy shirt and jacket, sighing as he scoops them up with one hand and frowning at the disappointing, mushy blob cradled in his arms.

This is unfortunate, he decides, staring mournfully at the heap of clothing.

Now, logically he could just jog the five minutes back to the apartment he shares with Grover, grab a new shirt and jacket, and then haul ass to the shop, but he's already running late, and this is the one day he promised Chiron he would be on time without fail—because Chiron has some sort of meeting, thing, and Percy is supposed to be a responsible adult and blah, blah blah.

He has a spare change of clothes he keeps in the back room for emergencies, so assuming he makes it with a minute to spare, that shouldn't be a problem. Well, not a major one. However there's also the issue of his almost nakedness.

Percy can be late to work or cater to the laws of public decency, he can't do both. Being to work on time, or public decency. Public decency, or possible hypothermia. A mad dash to the shop where his friends can maybe, kind of, sort of, cheer him up, or slinking back to his room so he could lick his wounds and sulk in peace after calling in sick. Disappointing Chiron, or possibly being arrested for running around half-naked in the streets of Manhattan and risk freezing his limbs off.

He bites his lip, staring at the wet clothing in his hand before pursing his lips, grip tightening on the fabric as he makes up his mind.

Public indecency it is.

Without a second thought, he marches up to the exit with his head held high. He can do this. It's a twenty minute jog, and if he runs fast that should keep his blood flowing and temporarily prevent him from turning into a percycicle. Which would be really gross, actually. Shaking the thought away, he huffs, shoving the doors open wide and stalking—well, _stumbling_ —out onto the sidewalk. He then almost immediately regrets that poorly made decision because it's really fucking cold outside.

 _Clearly_ , he didn't think this through.

Well, too late now!

Percy takes off down the street and doesn't look back.

* * *

You know, time flies by when you're running half-naked through the streets and people are yelling at you and your fingers feel like they're going to fall off. Not to mention the many unfortunate encounters he's had so far, including, but not limited to: an old lady with a purse that started smacking him and telling him he was "corrupting the nation's youth," three very angry hot-dog venders, a gaggle of high school girls that shrieked when they saw him—which is honestly really offensive. Then again, he would probably scream too if he ran into a naked guy on the streets—and a last minute detour because of a pileup and a broken fire hydrant.

Somehow, in the course of his manic running, he made it to the Hudson River. He is not supposed to be anywhere near the Hudson River. What the fuck? How the hell did he end up by the Hudson River? Luckily, he knows Manhattan like the back of his hand, so this isn't as big of a problem as it could have been.

That basically explains most aspects of his life— _not as big of a problem as it could have been._ Wow, he's getting dramatic. It's probably Grover's fault, him and his soap operas.

Percy glances down at his watch, squinting to read the tiny numbers. Ten minutes left until his shift starts. Double fuck.

He really should've just stayed in bed this morning.

And for the second time today, the world goes to shit because Percy isn't paying any attention to what he's doing. (He should get that on a shirt, or like, a sticker he can put on his shirt. That would be great.)

Percy isn't entirely sure what happens, it's so fast. He looks up from his watch just in time to catch a flash of blonde hair and startled gray eyes—ooh yay! A pretty girl gets to watch him make a fool of himself!—and that might be what distracts him enough so that he doesn't see the ice. Her eyes go wide as his foot hits an icy patch of sidewalk, causing his leg to shoot out from underneath him—which gives him a fucking _heart attack,_ but that's fine. At least that would be a valid excuse for being late to work—and then he's falling and his arm is smacking into the pretty girl. Someone screams—probably Percy— and in his struggle to not fall on his face again, he ends up accidentally grabbing the blonde. Then, she starts to fall, whatever she was holding flying from her hands, and somehow Percy ends up spinning them both around and keeping them up right.

And that's how Percy ends up dipping a random girl by the Hudson River.

Someone claps behind him and Percy can feel his face heating up, though hopefully the girl doesn't notice.

Speaking of the girl, she's, well, she's pretty, Percy notices. Like, really pretty. So pretty that he's probably staring. Then again, so is she. Well, he would probably stare at the maniac that knocked him over, too, but that's beside the point.

She blinks up at him wide-eyed from where she's hanging, back arched in the awkward dip and bare hands clutching his shoulders tightly—which totally would have been romantic if they weren't strangers and this wasn't a complete accident—her blonde hair spilling from beneath the blue beanie balancing precariously on the back of her head. A coil of her curls blows with the wind, ticking his bare arm—which, okay that actually feels really nice, but that's also super creepy of him to think.

It might also be worth mentioning that she looks like she's going to kill him.

Yeah, because accidentally dipping her in the middle of Manhattan isn't awkward and kind of creepy at all. She's probably going to punch him in the nuts for grabbing her like that. Maybe he should just punch himself in the nuts. Save her the trouble. Wait, is it even physically possible for him to punch himself in the nuts? Like, yeah he _could_ , but he could also bite through his finger like a carrot, and his body knows better than to do _that_.

Percy's tongue feels all too heavy in his mouth as he gapes at her, heart racing in his chest. "Are you okay?" is the first thing he manages to sputter out, hyper aware of his palm on the small of her back and the fact that she has the pretties eyes he has ever seen.

That, and she hasn't killed him yet, so that's probably a good sign.

She blinks at him once more and then her eyes narrow dangerously, her lips pursing in a way that he knows means trouble. Her nails graze his shoulders are she straightens suddenly, using him as leverage before shoving him backwards with enough force to send him stumbling back a step.

Her glare intensifies and— _oh shit_ , he's going to die out here naked and afraid.

"What the hell is your problem?!" she spits at him—and he swears she fucking _growls_ at him (which is both terrifying and oddly titillating, if he's being honest) as she bends down to scoop up what he now realizes is an _extremely_ delicate looking camera. That must be what she dropped when he slammed into her. "You nearly broke my camera, Asshole!" The words are biting—harsh—but there's this little waver in her voice that makes his gut clench in a bad way.

Okay, he feels really bad now, but at least it landed in a snow bank instead of the concrete sidewalk.

The blonde yanks her camera out of the snow and brushes it off before her glare snaps back to him, her eyes widening comically as she does. "And why the hell are you naked?" she gasps, voice rising an octave, most of the fire leaving her.

Yeah, he's not really sure how to answer that without seeming like a complete dumbass. Though, it's probably too late for that _now_. "Technically," he blurts, still staring at her owlishly, "I'm only mostly naked!" he points out.

She gapes at him for a moment, fingers stilling against her camera. Then, she surprises him by laughing under her breath, shaking her head. "Because that is so much better," she tells him, sarcasm creeping into her words.

"I've seen a lot worse," he replies honestly. Weird shit happens in New York. There are a _lot_ of things he wishes could be unseen—like that dude in the bear costume that kept trying to hug everyone. Actually, he thinks the cops were called on that one, which— _good_ , because that was really weird and the guy was shady. Plus, Percy thinks the bear man might have been selling drugs, so there's that.

"Yeah," she agrees, taking a step closer to him so he has tilt his head down to look at her. He didn't realize she was this short. Not, like, _short_ short, but at least a head shorter than him. He's going to be killed by a short, fierce, sassy blonde and he is perfectly okay with that. "That doesn't change the fact that you are still very mostly naked." Her gaze drifts down to his chest for a split second before snapping back to his.

He inhales shakily. "Point taken," he says, swallowing thickly, fingers tightening around the freezing fabric in his palm. He licks his lips nervously, not sure what else to say without making this situation infinitely more awkward. Percy coughs, running a hand through his messy, partially frozen hair.

She glances at the clothing fisted in his hand. "You know, it usually makes more sense to _wear_ your clothes instead of carrying them with you," she says teasingly, lips curving up at the edges in a sweet smile. She blinks up at him, rocking back on her heels, head tilted back to meet his eyes.

Percy huffs a laugh, nodding his head and biting his lip absentmindedly, the fingers of his free hand drumming against his thigh. "Yeah, that is does," he agrees. "But I dropped them in a pool." She laughs and he grins at her. "Not my proudest moment," he tells her.

"I can imagine," she laughs. "Your hair is freezing," she says, gesturing to his very frozen hair. He probably should have dried that before he left the building, but hey, hindsight is twenty-twenty!

He gives her a sarcastic, lopsided grin that's all teeth and no cheer, but there's no malice in his voice when he speaks. "An unfortunate side effect to being wet," he jokes. "And outside," he continues, grin widening when she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "In the middle of Winter."

"Cute," she tells him, utterly unfazed by his sassy mouth.

He thinks he's in love.

"I thought so," he tells her teasingly, shrugging his shoulders with an easy smile. It slips away just as quickly. "I'm sorry," he apologizes lowly, leaning down unintentionally. She doesn't back away. "For running into you earlier."

She smiles again. "Don't worry about it," she says. "No harm done."

Percy smiles back a bit awkwardly. Should he leave? Like, is it awkward if he tries to make conversation? Fuck, he's really not good with people. Well, not _people_ people, just insanely pretty blonde girls that could totally knock him on his ass if they wanted to. Does that make him a masochist? Probably, but he can't find it in himself to care.

Her hair is curly, Percy notes as she goes back to her camera. Like, super curly. Princess movie curly. And really messy, too, but artfully messy? Like, attractively windblown? Is that a thing? He also notices that she doesn't turn away from him as she fiddles with her camera—a glossy Nikon with a wicked lens. His first thought is tourist, but that doesn't seem right. That's not a tourist camera—that's a photographer's wet dream—and she seems perfectly comfortable in the city.

She glances back up at him and Percy's heart skips a beat. He honestly can't feel his legs at this point and he's not sure if that's because he's cold as fuck or because he just wants to keep talking to her. Maybe he should just walk away though, make this situation a little less awkward for the both of them.

His mouth doesn't agree with him. "So, what are you doing out here?" As soon as the words leave his mouth he feels like slapping himself. Obviously she's taking pictures considering the fucking _camera_ in her hands, what the fuck else would she be doing Percy? Improve theater? God, why can't his mouth be on his side for once? He's done nothing to deserve this!

She quirks a brow at him, sardonic smile on her lips. "Well," she chirps, raising the camera and wiggling it in front of his nose, "judging by the camera in my hands, I might be taking pictures," she quips, sarcasm practically dripping from her tongue. The camera goes back to her side and then she bats her eyes at him.

His eyes widen and for a second he forgets how to breathe and his legs feel like jelly, but then a smile splits across his face—so wide that it actually kind of hurts _because wow_ this girl's got some sass and she knows how to use it.

Percy snickers. "I like you," he admits, shaking a finger in her direction. She merely rolls her eyes, smile never leaving her, and he decides it might be safe to continue the conversation. Might. Then again, he's really fucking cold. And he still needs to get to work. _Fuck_.

"I'm flattered," she replies, grinning, before lifting her camera to her face and snapping a picture of the river.

"You don't look like you're from around here," he muses, eyes narrowing just the slightest. She's too… tan. And looks oddly like a surfer girl.

"That's because I'm not," she informs. "New York in nice, but I've never lived here long term. No one else ever wanted to stay." Her lips turn down at the edges, her eyes hardening, and Percy thinks he should have just kept his mouth shut. Obviously he's hit a sore spot, probably something family related that she definitely wouldn't want to talk about with a stranger. He gets that. He wouldn't want to talk about his demons with a stranger either.

He doesn't want to talk about his demons at all.

"If I had to guess, I would say you're from California." Fuck, it is so damn cold outside. Why is he choosing to freeze to death just to talk to a pretty girl—whom he still doesn't the name of, by the way. His priorities are obviously not in order today.

"And why would you say that?" she asks, giving his a sidelong glance after snapping another picture. "Do I just have that 'California Girl' vibe to me?" she jokes.

He nods, mock serious. "Yeah! Katy Perry's got nothing on you." She snorts, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. "Am I right?" he asks laughing with her.

"Nope!" she tells him, smiling. "I'm actually from a small town in the middle of nowhere, Virginia," she corrects, making a face at him. "I've only lived in California for about three years? Since my last year of high school." Her lips twist down in a frown.

Percy makes a face as well. That has to be rough. Moving your senior year of high school seems like absolute hell. Percy doesn't even want to think about having to move across the country and leaving his friends behind. He's a New Yorker, born and raised. He can't imagine just leaving like that.

He crosses his arms. "Whatever you say, California," he coos, knocking his shoulder against hers. He freezes, realizing what he's just done, but she just smiles up at him, no trace of anger on her face. Percy relaxes again.

"So," she starts slowly, dragging the word out, almost humming it. She peeks up at him, giving him a positively _wicked_ look. "Where were you off to in such a hurry that you couldn't be bothered to put a shirt on, nearly destroyed my camera, and almost killed me." She asks it so casually that Percy can't help but get defensive.

"I did _not_ almost kill you," he argues, sending her a lighthearted glare, that probably looks more like a pout than anything else, but that just makes her break out into peels of laughter that make a business woman walking by _glare at them_. Why the hell spit in her cereal this morning? "I saved your life," he tells the blonde.

"Yeah," she agrees, clearly exasperated, " _after_ putting it in peril!" When she whirls around to face him, her long hair nearly slaps him in the face and she laughs.

He rolls his eyes. "That," he points at her, waggling a finger in mock chastisement, "is an unfair accusation!" She starts to argue, but Percy cuts her off. "You weren't looking either," he reminds her.

"Fair enough," she concedes, "but you're a half foot taller than me and look pretty damn solid." She gives him a long once over, sharp eyes trailing down his torso languidly before quirking a brow and grinning at him slyly, looking at him like she _approves_. Of what? He isn't sure, but _fuck_ he'll take it.

Fuck, he's blushing. He's totally blushing. _Shh, be cool_ , _Percy_ , maybe she won't notice. Just, play it cool. Pretty girls make low-key sexual advances on you all the time, this is nothing new. Remain calm and try not to fuck this up.

Her eyes meet his and they're practically sparkling.

Yeah, she totally noticed.

Well, two can play at that game!

"You like what you see?" he asks, ducking his head down closer to hers and wiggling his eyebrows.

Her eyes widen the slightest bit and she inhales sharply, obviously surprised by his blatant flirting. Is he going to get smacked for that one? He's not sure yet. Hopefully she punches him on the side of the face he didn't fall on. Or, better yet, maybe he doesn't get smacked at all. Maybe he gets a phone number. That would be a lot better than a punch in the face, but he'll take whatever she throws at him. _Pun intended_.

She doesn't answer him though, just grins.

"I was heading to work," he tells her, answering her earlier question. "Gelato shop downtown."

She gives him a funny look. "You work at an ice cream shop in the middle of Winter," she deadpans, looking more than a little amused. He just shrugs in response, and she giggles, shaking her head. "I thought my uncle was the only one crazy enough to do that," she muses, head tilting to one side in thought.

Percy finds that action oddly endearing.

"Your uncle owns an ice cream shop?" he asks. Huh, what a coincidence. Percy thought Chiron was the only man weird enough to keep an ice cream place open in the Winter, but apparently not. Hey, you've got hand it to them though, they persevered!

"Yup," she chirps, popping the 'p' as she speaks. "That's actually why I'm here," she adds casually.

He frowns. "Here as in Manhattan Island in the middle of Winter, or here as in taking pictures of the Hudson river?"

"Both." She smiles.

His phone beeps suddenly, a reminder that he's now officially late for work, and Chiron's probably not going to be happy about that. It also means that he's be standing here freezing for the past ten minutes, though he doesn't actually feel cold at all. Actually, that's probably not a good thing. Isn't that a stage of hypothermia? He should go, like, right now. Percy doesn't fuck around when _death_ is on the line.

"Well," he starts, shuffling awkwardly. "I should probably go," he tells her. She says nothing, just gives him another onceover before nodding. Percy leans down, courage rushing through his veins as his mouth skims her ear. Go big or go home, right? "Take a picture," he murmurs, lips brushing her skin. "It'll last longer." He turns away without a second look, but he wants to turn around. He really, really does.

There's a click behind him, then a beep and a flash, and he freezes, eyes widening and mouth dropping open. She _didn't_. Holy shit. Percy snaps around, gaping at her as lowers her camera, biting her lip.

"I think this will be a good one," she informs him, looking at the photo she'd just taken—of him. She just—holy shit, okay. He didn't think she'd actually do it. Fuck. She looks up again, meeting his eyes before giving him an exaggerated saucy wink and Percy's jaw drops. _Holy sexy_ —did anyone else see that? "Nice ass!" she calls out, grinning, before spinning around.

Percy laughs. "Hey, California!" she stops, turning around again, and he jogs back over to her, ignoring the people around them that are _openly staring fuck people get a life_. "Will I be seeing you again?" he asks.

She purses her lips, pretending to think. "Well I guess that depends on you," she replies, peering up at him. He frowns, head cocking to the side, and she smiles. "Hypothermia is a bitch," she warns.

She reaches up, tugging her beanie off her hair, sending a curtain of messy curls swishing around her face. Percy's frown deepens, but then she pushes up on her toes, one hand landing on his shoulder. "What are you—" His question is cut off when her fingers graze his neck. His hand automatically settles on her hip, unsure what else to do as she leans into him. Something warm and knit slips onto his head.

Her hat, he realizes as she backs away.

"What?" he jokes, voice a little higher than normal. "You're not going to offer me your jacket?" It's a poorly timed joke, but she doesn't seem to mind.

A smile. "Maybe next time." And then she's gone, disappearing down the street with Percy unable to do anything but watch.

He's late for work, but, he decides, it was worth it.

Maybe today wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

 **AN: Big thank you to everyone that reviews! You guys really make my day! Next chapter is back at the shop!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: This chapter is all Nico! It takes place at about the same time as last chapter!**

* * *

 **Kairos**

 **Chapter Four**

Nico has chemistry with Will Solace—actual chemistry, not epic-love chemistry. Well, maybe a little bit of the second, but only from Nico's end. He's not entirely sure if Will likes him at all or it's just Nico projecting and looking way too far into things. He thinks. Nico isn't actually that good at reading people. At all. He once thought Grover was having an affair on Juniper. With Travis. Yeah, in hindsight that didn't make much sense, but at the time, Nico was thoroughly convinced that something fishy was going on. You know, despite the fact that Travis is utterly in love—like, complete sappy, flowers and chocolate love—with Katie Gardner, and Grover being the single nicest and most devoted boyfriend in the entire damn planet. There's no possible way that Grover would ever cheat on Juniper.

Especially not with Travis Stoll, of all people.

So, yeah. That was not Nico's finest moment. When he went to Percy with his concerns, the older boy laughed so hard he started to hyperventilate and Nico was panicking because they were the only one's at the shop. He almost called an ambulance—the thought better of it because Percy is broke. Luckily, that's when Will showed up and well, the rest is history.

Actually it's chemistry. Because Will freaking Solace makes Nico want to stand up on a table in front of everyone and start spouting disgustingly sappy and romantic love poetry and that is not a Nico thing to do. Actually, that's kind of a Percy thing to do, considering he's a _dramatic hoe_. (He means that in the nicest way possible, of course. Percy is like an older, slightly crazy brother to him and, well, frankly Nico loves him. He really does. Percy helped him and Bianca when they were the new kids in school, and he was the one that took care of the bullies when people learned that Nico is gay back in his Freshman year. He's Nico's best friend behind Jason and Hazel.)

Anyway, chemistry. He's never liked chemistry. Mostly because he always— _always_ gets paired up with Connor for experiments and they always, without fail, end with something exploding and Nico receiving a failing grade on the assignment. He doesn't even _want_ to work with Connor. He actively avoids having to work with Connor but somehow they always end up paired together.

Nico is pretty sure that Mr. Geryon hates him for some reason, even though Nico has never done anything wrong in his entire life. Not once. Nope.

So, yeah, chemistry completely sucks between Connor making things go boom at completely inappropriate times, his terrible teacher that hates him for no conceivable reason, and the fact that Will _freaking_ Solace sits directly in front of him and sometimes Nico finds himself staring at his hair because _wow he's never seen hair that gold before_ and _wow he's turning into a sap like Grover_.

Nico doesn't want to be a sap. Even though Percy says it's very punk to be a sap. (Nico takes that with a grain of salt because Percy—who wears leather jackets and has a lip piercing and can take on guys three times his size in a fight—just needs a valid excuse to coo and fuss over tiny kittens and cry when dogs die in movies.)

Nico huffs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, not really paying attention to Mr. Geryon at the front of the room droning on and on about how _mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell_ —because that's definitely going to help him succeed in life. Never mind learning about how taxes work or really anything to do with the real world that could help them succeed in life, _thank God they know that mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell_.

He thought Percy and Travis were just messing around when they told him about this. He thought it was all just a joke—the dead look in their eyes and blank expressions as they murmured the phrases ominously, perfectly in sync, as if the phrase was wired into their brains. But no, _mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell_ is like some Avatar _there is no war in Ba Sing Se_ shit. It's like brainwashing.

He shudders, glancing at Jason in the seat beside him—half asleep and chewing on the end of his pencil, nose still bruised and puffy from when he accidentally slapped himself in the face the day before. Nico cringes, less because of Jason's ability to injure himself in any given situation, and more because of how awkward he was around Will yesterday. He was all blushes and stuttering and decisively un-Nico like. It was horrible. It was awkward. And he's pretty sure Percy caught him staring at Will's butt as he walked out of the shop.

Which is just great. Nico just loves giving Percy the chance to tease him about something—especially Nico having a dorky little crush on the "bane of Percy's existence," which is kind of a big title for a sixteen-year-old that just wants to buy ice cream. Everyday. In the middle of Winter.

Not that Nico minds. Will Solace is one of the reasons Nico actually _likes_ his job—which is a miracle, really, because Nico hates everything, according to his friends. Whatever, Nico can dislike whatever he wants to dislike, it's not like it—

There's a resounding thump—well, more of a slam as Jason's head hits the table—apparently having fallen asleep in the middle of the lecture. Two rows ahead of them, Connor whips around in his seat, eyes wide with a spoon and a cup of jello in his hands. Why does he even—you know what, Nico doesn't want to know. It's not worth it.

Jason jerks back awake as soon as his forehead makes contact with the table top, and straightens so quickly that he almost topples backwards onto the floor, obnoxiously shouting "I'm awake!" rather unconvincingly and drawing the entire rooms attention to the two of them.

Thanks Jason.

The entire room swivels in their seats to look at them, peering at them curiously, a few boys in the second row snickering as Jason rubs his forehead casually, trying not to seem suspicious. Well, it's a little late for that, Jason, don't you think? It's not like you just screamed in the middle of a lecture and gained the attention of the entire class and their mothers.

That is exactly what Nico wanted today. He just loves being stared at by the general populace as they point and laugh at him. It's his… _favorite_ thing.

His eyes slip shut and he sighs heavily, silently asking why the world hates him so much and why he always gets dragged into situations like this. Granted, this is a very tame situation compared to others, but it's a situation nonetheless. It's a situation and Jason is probably going to end up with an after school detention because Mr. Geryon is a dick. That, or Nico is going to end up with an after school detention because Mr. Geryon is a dick that has it out for him. Or both.

Both is the most likely situation.

Nico opens his eyes slowly, only to come face to face with Will Solace. Nico gasps, eyes widening just the slightest as their gazes lock and Will sends him a small, slightly crooked grin, the right corner of his mouth tugged up just a bit higher than the other. Nico absentmindedly notices that Will has super white teeth, like blindingly white and shiny and that's a really weird thing to notice about someone—and he is totally not glancing at Will's lips— _nope_.

Nico is pretty sure his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and that would be super embarrassing. It would also be super messy and Jason would probably faint because horror movies make him sick, even though it's just cornstarch and food dye. Plus, Janitor Bob would have to scrub Nico's blood off the floor and that's not really fair to Bob.

He frowns slightly, grimacing internally as he realizes how dramatic he's being. His eyes widen. Maybe _Nico's_ the dramatic hoe.

Nico flinches as an earsplitting crack sounds throughout the room, inches from his head. Beside him, Jason squeaks, slipping down in his chair. For a moment, Nico is confused, but then he catches a look at Will's rapidly paling face and how the other boy isn't looking at Nico anymore.

That's when Nico notices Mr. Geryon standing in front of him and Jason's lab table, hands braced on the worn edges covered in doodles and little messages written in pencil. Nico also notices the broken yardstick in his hand, the other half laying in splinters between him and Jason.

 _Oh_ , he thinks, _well, that's not good._

Mr. Geryon squints down at them, practically growling—actually _growling_ like a goddamn animal—and leans forward so he's only inches away from the two of them. "Is there a problem back here, boys?" he asks lowly, the words hissed between his teeth, jaw clenched.

And this is the story of how Nico dies.

Nico looks past Mr. Geryon's shoulder, this time making eye-contact with Connor, who merely shakes his head and—spoon still in hand—makes a cross across his body, mouthing what Nico thinks is "I'll miss you" before raising his jello in a silent "cheers!"

Very helpful Connor.

There's another cracking sound as Mr. Geryon slaps the broken half of his yardstick against the table, making Nico jump in surprise and causing Jason to let out another little whimpering sound. Nico's gaze jerks back to the teacher standing in front of him—still scowling and looking like smoke is about to erupt out of his ears—which would be quite a sight to see.

Right, he asked them a question.

Shit.

He sends a sideways glance Jason's way, but can't meet his friend's eyes. "No, Sir," he says, plastering a too bright smile on his face. "No problem here at all! Sorry to disturb your lesson." The sarcasm is thick on his tongue and he almost winces when he realizes how mocking his tone was. Yeah, really great way to get out of trouble, Nico. Just sass the teacher why don't you.

Percy would be so proud of him.

Mr. Geryon isn't quite so impressed. And it's in that moment that Nico begins to regret all of his life choices. He had a decent run, life was good most days. He just wishes he had punched Connor this morning one last time.

"What Nico means, Sir—" Jason shoots him a nasty look out of the corner of his eye, ignoring Nico's half-hearted shrug in response "—is that there's no problem at all." Jason sends the teacher his megawatt, golden boy smile, laying the false sincerity on pretty thick. Nico rolls his eyes. Jason might as well bat his eyelashes while he's at it. "I just smacked my elbow on the table."

Mr. Geryon purses his lips, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Jason just smiles though. He's always been good at this, Nico notes, getting out of trouble, that is. He flashes a smile and gives a false apology and suddenly everything's okay. Nico kind of wishes he had that talent. It would be nice to have a _get out of jail free_ card that he could whip out whenever he needed it.

Then, after several long second of dead silence, Mr. Geryon nods and turns around, heading back to the front.

Nico sends Jason a grin and he winks back, flashing him a discreet thumbs up.

"Di Angelo!" Mr. Geryon barks, whipping back around and glaring at him. Nico's head snaps around, his eyes wide. "Detention after school!" He opens his mouth to argue—because technically he hasn't done anything detention worthy. The sass was a little much, but he blames Percy for being a bad influence. "No arguments!"

Nico scowls and goes back to his notebook, but not before Will sends him a little smile.

Nico has never been quite so thankful that Chemistry comes right before lunch, because at least now he can bitch about how unfair his detention is—and how Mr. Geryon is the worst teacher ever and Nico is so glad that he's not going to have him as a professor ever again—and stab at his lunch in peace. Well, relative peace. It's never quite a peaceful lunch when Leo Valdez is there. He's loud and slightly obnoxious and talks too much and can be kind of an asshole sometimes. Honestly, Nico kind of wishes he had just gone to hide in the library and sulk by himself, but it's too late now.

At least Nico isn't going to be in detention alone. Connor will be there too, considering he finally did what he was planning to do with that spoon and jello cup. Nico isn't entirely sure what he did, because he was too busy keeping his head down in the back, but there was a thump, a crash, and shriek, and then he looked up and Mr. Geryon had lime jello dripping down his face and staining his crisp, white shirt.

Connor is a good friend. Nico's lips pull up at the edges. No matter how annoying he is, or how often Nico wants to punch him in the face, he's a pretty great friend when it comes down to it. He's always got Nico's back, even when Nico doesn't think he needs his help. Plus, he's willing to do something stupid and get in trouble just to keep Nico company in detention—though, he was probably going to end up in detention anyway. Nico is choosing to ignore that fact.

Jason slips into the seat next to him just as Nico sticks a fork into his goop—he has no idea what this lunch is, but it looks toxic. Like it might come to life and strangle him. Seriously, it's kind of a greenish-brownish color and he thinks it's supposed to be mashed potatoes, but he's not entirely sure. (Across the table from him, Leo shovels more of the goop into his mouth, seemingly ignorant of how utterly disgusting it is. Well, better him than Nico. He wants to live, thank you very much.)

Piper sits down on Jason's other side, starting up a conversation with her boyfriend and Leo, and Nico just rolls his eyes and continues to poke at his food. He's sulking, he knows, but he's allowed to sulk a little, considering he's been given detention for literally no reason at all other than the fact that the chemistry teacher hates him. That's kind of Bianca's fault, but not really. She was always a star student: top of the class, honors, Valedictorian of her class. And Nico? Nico is just, well, Nico. Average grades—not poor, just—average. His teachers expected more from him, but he's not Bianca.

He's never going to _be_ Bianca.

Nico glances down towards the other end of the table, but Frank and Hazel aren't there yet, Connor is in the principal's office—where he'll probably be until lunch is over, maybe even longer, and Will isn't here yet either—not that he's expecting Will to sit with him. He just does that sometimes. He's kind of a drifter. Which is a shame, because now Nico only has two options: continue to sulk and be a downer, or actually try and converse with the other three. Frankly, he's rather sulk.

It's not that he doesn't like them. Jason is probably his best friend and Piper is nice enough, even if he doesn't really talk to her much—she'd got that whole hipster thing going on and Nico is too tired to keep up with that most days. And Leo is… Leo.

He doesn't hate the guy. He just really wants to punch him most of the time.

Huffing to himself, Nico continues to poke at his food, casually listening into the conversation his friends—acquaintances? He only ever talks to Jason and Connor outside of school, so—are having.

Piper heaves a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes at Leo from across the table, her eyes narrowed slightly. "So why don't you just get a job at some shop then? You know, instead of complaining about broke all the time?"

Great. Another argument about Leo's broke ass, with Jason trying to mediate his two friends. Nico loves this conversation. It only happens twice a week, every week. It's always the same conversation. Leo complains about having no money. Piper tells him to get a job. Leo says something about it not being that easy. Then, Piper goes on a ten minute rant about how Leo isn't actively looking for a job and how one isn't just going to fall into his lap. After that, Leo will say something about how Piper doesn't get to talk, because money comes easy to her. Piper will get mad, and they'll start arguing viciously. Piper will storm off, Jason will follow, and Nico will be left with a sulking Leo.

Yeah, not exactly what he wants to deal with almost every lunch time. Alas, it's what always happens, without fail.

He should have just gone to the library. He should have run while he had the chance to get away. Now it's too late.

Leo rolls his eyes right back at Piper, making a face at her as he does. Nico can practically feel Piper glare back at him. "It's not that easy, Piper," Leo hisses back. "And before you start bitching at me about 'not looking hard enough,' I'll have you know that I have been looking, but it's almost winter break, and no one's hiring anymore." Which makes sense, the college kids are going to be on break soon, so any part time jobs that were available before have already been taken by them.

Piper just scoffs back and beside her, Jason sighs, placing his head in his hands and looking more like a tired parent than a seventeen-year-old. Well that's what Jason gets for being the mom friend. He brought this upon himself. Nico doesn't envy him at all.

"So why don't you get a job at the gelato shop?" Piper asks him, throwing her hands up in the air. She always has been one with a bit of dramatic flair. Though, that might have something to do with her father being an actor. Nico isn't sure. "It's not like Chiron isn't hiring," she snarks. Frankly, Chiron is always hiring. Not publicly, but if someone needs a job, his doors are open.

Nico snorts, shaking his head a little. "Yeah," he adds under his breath, "Considering some of us haven't actually been to work in a month," he murmurs bitterly. He doesn't get how Piper can nag Leo for not getting a job, despite the fact that Piper hasn't worked a shift in almost two weeks, and when she does, it's not a long one. He can understand that school comes first, but at this rate, she might as well just quit.

Percy, Nico, and Grover have basically the same amount of school work on their plates—maybe even _more_ at the moment, but they're all practically working at the shop full time.

Leo cackles, bringing Nico's attention back to the conversation. "No thanks," he tells Piper, sarcasm coating the words heavily. "I don't want to work with delinquents."

Nico stiffens slightly, exchanging a quick look with Jason. Piper laughs, but Leo doesn't look like he's just teasing, and that doesn't sit right with Nico. He purses his lips, shifting awkwardly in his seat. Jason starts tapping his foot nervously. The other two don't seem to notice.

"You are a delinquent," Piper snarks back, laughing and reaching across the table to swat at her friend's shoulder. And it's true. Leo gets detention just as much as Connor does, maybe even more.

Leo just grins, his smile all sharp, white teeth, wolf like, and Nico knows that he's not going to like what comes out of his mouth next. "Nah, Pipes!" he snickers. "I mean real delinquents!" He shakes his head, rolling his eyes slightly. "Didn't the manager—you know, the one with all the piercings and the motorcycle—like, kill a guy or something?"

Nico's spork clatters against the tabletop and others fall silent. Nico raises his head, sending Leo the nastiest glare he can manage. The grin slips off the other boy's lips, and Nico's hands start to shake so badly that he reaches under the table and grabs the edge of the bench to keep himself from lashing out. He can practically feel Jason's eyes on him: wide and nervous.

Nico sucks in a shaky breath through his nose, teeth grinding together. He really doesn't want to start a fight, but he can't just let Leo get away with saying that. Because he's wrong. That's not what happened at all. Percy would never— "Shut up, Leo," is all he says, going back to his food a moment later.

It's silent for a moment. Then—

"Hey I didn't mean to—"

Jason sighs, cutting Leo off. "Sometimes you take things too far," he murmurs, staring down at his peas.

The awkwardness is heavy in the air, and Nico thinks about just getting up and leaving, going to the library and staying there for the rest of lunch—because that would be better than sitting here with Piper and Leo and listening to them argue—but then someone drops down into the seat across from him, making Leo's head snap up.

"Hey," he meets Will Solace's eyes and the other boy smiles brightly. "Is this seat taken?" he asks jokingly.

Jason clears his throat, laughing a little awkwardly voice a bit higher than usual. "Nah, Will!" he laughs, waving a hand dismissively. "Take a seat, there's always one open for you." Will smiles again, and Jason continues. "Not sitting with your usual group today?" he asks, referring to the group of AP anatomy kids huddled up in the far corner of the room, all of them flipping through textbooks and muttering to each other, sometimes laughing to themselves.

Nico hopes they're okay.

He misses Will's reply, but figures it's not really important. The conversation starts back up again, the new arrival managing to lessen the previous tension, though not by much. Piper and Leo are much quieter now, heads bent close together as they mutter amongst themselves.

Nico rolls his eyes, but lets them be. There's no point in picking another fight today.

He glances at Will, then his lunch, pulling a face as he sees Will's identical lunch. Well, mostly identical. It's the same gross looking potatoes and what he thinks might be a ham and cheese sandwich, with peas and carrots on the side, but Will doesn't have any milk.

And there's nothing wrong with that. Will can do whatever he wants. Besides, it's not lie the lunch is any good anyway. It's just that the milk is the only good part about their lunch. So yeah, it's a little concerning that Will didn't get milk with his goopy mashed potatoes and dry sandwich with mystery meat.

The words leave him without him meaning them to. "You didn't get milk." It's a statement, not a question. Just a fact. Another thing for Nico to add to his collection of things he knows about Will Solace. Just like how he knows Will is blond, and his eyes are blue, and he looks best in his blue sweatshirt, because the color matches his eyes. It's just fact.

Will glances up at him, smile leaving his face, a confused look on his face—and maybe something else, too. "What?" he asks Nico, tilting his head to the side.

"You didn't get milk," Nico repeats, shrugging slightly, not all too concerned with Will's lunch habits. It's just conversation.

Will blushes. "Oh." He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah. I just… wasn't feeling it today," he finishes softly, not meeting Nico's eyes. Yeah, because that wasn't shady at all.

Nico frowns. There's something very strange about William Solace, and Nico is determined to find out what.

* * *

 **AN: Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This chapter ended up being a lot longer than expected, so enjoy guys! Updates might get a little wonky after the next chapter because I start school again next week!**

 **Kairos**

 **Chapter Five**

* * *

Given the way his day has been going, he's come to the conclusion that it's "National Yell at Percy Day." And if it's not, it might as well be! Today has just been constant yelling. First with Percy screaming at the goddamn duck alarm—he's going to kill the Stolls later, mark his words. He's going to kill them and dump their bodies upstate. Grover will totally help him do it—followed by Grover screaming because Percy fucking bitch-slapped him with his fucking phone. Then, his coach was yelling because "blah, blah, blah, you're supposed to be team captain, Jackson. Blah, blah, blah responsibility." After that it was the pretty girl down by the river—but that was less yelling at him and more you-could-have-killed-me-asshole berating. And, of course, Chiron wasn't really happy with him being almost fifteen minutes late to work, but he didn't actually yell.

(Percy would have preferred him yelling over the disappointed sigh and light reprimand.)

And then—then he finally checked his phone. He's settled in the shop. It was quiet. All was well. And then he noticed a voicemail from Juniper. And against his better judgment he listened to it.

He did not know that Juniper could scream that loudly _or_ that she could use the word "fuck" six times in one sentence. He was also highly impressed with—and also very, very disturbed by—the amount of ways she could castrate him. Juniper is fucking scary as shit and he is never going to piss her off again.

Why are all the women in his life so damn terrifying? Like, his mom is all sweet, but she also may or may not be responsible for the disappearance of his former step-father—Percy's afraid to ask what really happened seven years ago and she sure as hell isn't telling him anything. Thalia is a black belt and he's seen her flip a man over her head. Katie and Juniper are those super innocent looking people that could totally kill you. That girl by the river looked like she could snap his arm in half if she wanted, and that's only a handful of the women in his life.

Anyway, the women in his life are all terrifying as fuck and everyone's been yelling at him today even though he's done absolutely nothing wrong. Nope, not a thing. He's just Percy being Percy and everyone is pissed.

Like, the difficult customer he's been dealing with for _ten minutes now_. Ten. Freaking. Minutes. If it wasn't cold as fuck outside the ice cream would have melted by now. That's kind of what Percy would like to do. Just melt into a giant blue puddle on the floor that someone else would have to clean up. Well, Travis would have to clean it up, considering he's the only other person here at the moment. It's only fair, considering it's partly Travis's fault he's having a shitty day.

Percy wakes up to a motherfucking satanic goose and Travis gets to clean up a Percy sized puddle on the floor. Sounds fair.

Unfortunately, he can't just melt into a puddle. Therefore, he does need to deal with this insufferable customer that can't make up their damn mind and won't listen to a word he says. What the fuck, is he talking to himself here? Are his lips flapping with no sound coming out? Do he accidentally press his own mute button? Hah! See, that's funny because he doesn't have a mute button!

Sometimes his friend's wish he did, though.

Percy holds back a sigh as the younger boy—yeah don't try to hide it kid, Percy knows he's cutting class—shakes his head for the fiftieth time and purses his lips. If Percy smiles any longer, his face is going to be stuck in his _customer service_ smile for the rest of his life.

"I'm sorry, dude," the kid says. "I'm allergic to blueberries." He shrugs half-heartedly, making a face at the cone of blue ice cream. The kid squints, looking at him like Percy's asked him to eat a _large, smelly boot_ instead of freaking vanilla ass ice cream—you know, what the kid _fucking ordered_.

 _Don't call me dude, you're like twelve_ , is what he wants to say. Actually there are a lot of things he wants to say, but none of them are appropriate for him to say to minors. Or customers. Or anyone really. His mom would wash his mouth with soap if she knew what he _really_ wanted to say.

Instead, he says, "This isn't blueberry." He gives the kid a tense smile, repeating himself for the tenth damn time since he got the kid's order. "It's vanilla." He's only mostly lying. It's not exactly vanilla, but it's certainly not fucking blueberry. Who the hell would make blueberry ice cream?

Not for the first time, Percy curses Ben and Jerry.

The kid doesn't look convinced, squinting at the ice cream that Percy is still _holding out for him to take_. "But it's blue," the kid tells him.

Percy wants to smack a bitch. "That's the magic of food coloring," he explains, forcing cheer into his voice when all he wants to do is lie down in the back and take a nap. Why do customers have to be so damn difficult? Why can't this be a get-in get-out kind of thing? Why do these people have to make buying ice cream seem like fucking rocket science? This should not be that hard!

The I'm-twelve-and-edgy-because-I'm-cutting-class kid looks at him like he's stupid, which—gee, thanks, kid! It's not like Percy couldn't totally poison him if he really wanted—only serves to sour Percy's mood even further. "But I ordered vanilla."

He could slap himself. "This is literally vanilla," he tells the kid, half-way to losing his patience. "We bought the vanilla ice cream and dyed it blue, because some idiot thought it would be a great idea and it would attract more customers." He doesn't mention that the idiot was him. "You ordered the Pacific Vanilla, right?"

The kid nods. "Yeah," he says slowly.

Percy smiles weakly. "And the Pacific Vanilla is…" he trails off, waiting for the boy to continue.

"Blue," the kid finishes.

Gold star for you, kid! Now, take your damn ice cream and go!

"Yes, so…" Percy waves his hands between them, silently telling the kid to go on.

"But I'm allergic to blueberries."

Fuck you kid! Dishonor on you! Dishonor on your cow—

The kid walks out before Percy can finish his thought, leaving him standing there holding an ice cream cone instead of, you know, money, which is kind of the goal of selling things. Making a profit. Paying for the heating because, oops! It's seven degrees outside and not much warmer on the inside, but since you forgot to pay the heating bill, you and Grover have to platonically cuddle and share a pizza—which Percy definitely doesn't consider as his last date. Not at all.

Percy sighs and peers down at the ice cream in his hand, wondering what to do with it. He can't exactly _put it back_. But it would also be a waste to just throw it away… He huffs, digging out a five from his pocket and shoving the bill into the cash register, grumbling under his breath. Fine, if no one else wants it he'll eat the damn ice cream. It's delicious. That kid doesn't know what he's missing. Oh well. More for Percy!

"You know," a voice cuts in, just before Percy can take a bite, "you're supposed to sell that to the paying customers, not eat it yourself." Percy rolls his eyes, sending a playful glare Travis's way. Travis grins, then laughs. "I can't believe you're still trying to sell that shit," he chuckles, shaking his head.

You know what, maybe he should just throw the ice cream at Travis instead.

"Hey!" He points an accusing finger at Travis, eyes narrowing dangerously. How dare he! Percy's ice cream concoction is brilliant and Travis doesn't understand the beauty of art! Plus, he's just a whiny piss-baby because Percy won't let him make his own flavors—no one wants rotten egg flavored ice cream, _Travis_. "Don't knock it 'til you try it!"

Travis quirks a brow. "Do you really think lying to the customers is going to work for much longer?" he asks casually, glancing down at his nails. He snorts. "Pacific Vanilla _my ass_."

Percy rolls his eyes, making a show of taking a slow lick. Travis cringes, pulling a face. Percy decides not to comment on the Pacific Vanilla thing, because that's totally made up and Percy's just as creative as the people that come up with paint color names. Those guys are brilliant and probably very strange. "I'm not lying. I'm… telling a half truth," he corrects, shrugging slightly.

Travis snorts. "Which is a lie by omission." Well, he's not wrong.

He sighs, shaking his head slightly. It's this same conversation every time he brings up this ice cream. Percy thinks Travis is just afraid of trying new things. What a baby. "If you would just _taste_ it—"

"I'm not putting that salty ass ice cream anywhere near my mouth!"

And that's the big lie of omission. It's sweet! It's salty! It's vanilla ice cream mixed with sea salt and dyed blue—which, yeah, he totally stole that from a video game, but no one else needs to know that. All that matters is that they're the only shop in all of New York that sells the stuff, and it's going to make them all rich someday! You know, after people actually start to buy it!

"It's good!" Percy argues, throwing his hands up. Why does no one believe him when he says it's fantastic! That's not even him being a conceited piece of shit! It's just fact!

"Yeah," Travis agrees sarcastically. "Says the guy who puts pineapple on his pizza!" He pretends to gag. "You freak of nature!"

Percy practically growls at him, once again contemplating the pros and cons of chucking the cone at his damn head. "It's delicious, dammit!"

"It's disgusting, and you're just lying to yourself!" Percy reaches out blindly and grabs the first object he finds—a paperback copy of _Much Ado About Nothing_ , apparently—and chucks it at his friend's head, narrowly missing him as Travis dancing back into the backroom, cackling to himself. Percy huffs and pushes off from the counter, scooping up the downed book before tossing it back on the counter.

He peers down at it, lips pursed. He never has been much of a Shakespeare fan.

"Oh come on, Percy, what did Shakespeare ever do to you?" His fingers tighten around the binding and he nearly drops the ice cream in his other hand as he recognizes the voice. Suddenly, it's not as appetizing as it was before.

His gaze snaps to the door—he never even heard the bell ring—and the new figure standing there, a huge smirk on her face, as if she hasn't been AWOL for months. He leans back away from the counter, the smile slipping from his lips. He spares a moment to take in the dark hair and brightly dyed tips, all black leather and chains. She hasn't changed at all since last Spring.

"Thalia," he greets coldly— _bitterly_ , he thinks. He's still so damn _bitter_ about everything that happened. He shouldn't be—not with her, because it wasn't her fault, but—it was so hard to move on, and at least Thalia understood—but then she just _left_ and—

She grins back at him—all wolf in sheep's clothing—but flinches the slightest bit at his tone. _Good_ , he thinks. "Hey, Percy," she replies, stepping further into the shop, perfectly at home in the room.

He has to bite his tongue to keep himself from making some scathing remark about how she isn't welcome here—that she can't call this place her second home anymore. Not after she's taken every opportunity to avoid it—ignore it—run away. Instead, he settles for a much tamer response.

"Haven't seen you in awhile," he says breezily, making a show of ripping his gaze away from her and searching for a bowl—he has a feeling he won't be getting the chance to finish it now. He grabs the first one he finds and dumps the cone into it unceremoniously, shoulders tensing when Thalia takes another step towards him.

She notices, freezing in place half-way across the room. She sighs. "I've been busy," she tells him, softer this time, but the words are steel-laced and he can imagine the purse of her lips and the slight twitch of annoyance in her jaw.

The air between them is positively freezing and it's not because of the weather—not this time. Percy's fingers clench around the edge of the counter, squeezing so hard that it _hurts_. His relationship with Thalia has always been tense, but it was never this bad—never bad enough that he couldn't bring himself to look at her. No, that didn't start until after Senior year—after Luke fucking Castellan happened and after Thalia started to avoid him and everyone else that mattered to her, even her own damn brother.

Percy doesn't think he'll ever be able to forgive Thalia for the late nights back when he was still seventeen—back when Jason was only fifteen and vulnerable and couldn't stop asking Percy why Thalia _hated_ him now, or why she stopped coming home.

His jaw clenches and he exhales slowly through his nose, finally lifting his head to look Thalia in the eyes. "Right," he sends her a bitter smile, "how's college treating you? I haven't seen you at all since the year started," he muses, releasing his death grip on the counter before leaning his elbows on it.

"I dropped out," she admits lowly, looking just over his shoulder instead of meeting his eyes.

Percy snorts, a laugh bubbling in his throat. "Thalia Grace," he mocks, leaning further across the counter, staring her down across the room. The grin he sends her is all teeth. "I never took you for a quitter."

She practically growls at him, hands curling into fists at her sides. "I'm not a quitter, Jackson," she spits back at him, lips curves back over her teeth in a snarl. "It just wasn't my type of thing," she explains.

Percy can't help the bitter laugh that rips from his throat. He doesn't give a damn about whether or not she's in college, it's just something to argue about. "Yeah," he agrees, grin becoming malicious as he stares back at her. "That's what you said about Luke Castellan, too," he muses. "Then you started screwing him," he reminds her.

Thalia looks about ready to strangle him, and honestly? He doesn't blame her. It was a low blow, but it's not like she hasn't done the exact same thing to him—make those low blows because they hurt—blame him for what happened.

Her jaw clenches and she shakes her head, stomping towards the counter. Her hands slap against the clean surface with so much force that a container of spoons begins to shake. Percy doesn't flinch. "You're an asshole," she snarls. "And I can screw whoever I _want_."

He snorts. "I'm not saying you can't, Thalia," he spits. "I don't give a fuck who you do or don't screw, it's none of my damn business." He bites the inside of his cheek, staring her down across the counter. "I'm just saying your type of thing doesn't mean shit to me anymore."

She rolls her eyes, arms crossing over her chest. She meets his gaze head on, lips pressed into a tight line as she shifts her weight to her right hip. "Why are you being such a dick about this?" she asks him slowly. "You don't care about whether or not I'm in school, and you certainly don't care who I may or may not be fucking," she growls.

He cackles. "Oh, I don't know!" he spits sarcastically, pushing away from the counter and throwing his arms up. "Maybe because you started dating Luke and then suddenly we were both being pulled into some fucked up shit!" he hisses back, nails digging into his palms hard enough to leave little angry, red lines in his skin. "Maybe because we almost died, Thalia!"

"I didn't ask for your help," she sneers.

Percy laughs, shaking his head. "You didn't have to." He swallows thickly, a knot in his throat. "We were friends, remember?" His voice is softer now, the fire gone. He's just so damn tired of the arguing. "Or is that not what you thought we were?" She flinches and he shakes his head, sighing heavily. "I'm surprised you're even here today. You never come around the shop unless you have to."

"Percy," she sighs, "you know why I can't be here."

He does. Because Jason's here and Thalia can't look him in the eyes anymore. Because _he's_ here Grover's here and Travis is here, and every damn friend she's ever had is here, and she can't stand to look at any of them anymore. Not without thinking about Luke and what they all did.

He snorts. "Then why don't you just quit, Thalia?" he asks. "If you hate it here so much, then why don't you quit?" She doesn't respond, just looks away from him. "You're hardly here anyway," he tells her, "what's a couple more hours to me or Grover or your _brother_." He doesn't mean to spit the last part, but he does.

Her head snaps back up. "That's not fair," she says.

"Not fair?" he asks incredulously. "Thalia, I was there too," he reminds her, throat tightening. "I was there when Luke went off the rail. I was there when he dragged Ethan down with him—when he almost drug _me_ down with him." He clenches his jaw, teeth clacking together audibly as his hands start to shake. "I was standing right next to you when Jake Mason almost got killed, but I'm still here."

She turns her back on him. "We all handle things differently, Percy," she murmurs so softly he almost misses it. "You keep coming in here everyday with a smile on your face and I—I can't do that," she says, glancing over her shoulder and meeting his eyes. "I _won't_ do that."

"Yeah," he agrees, nodding along with her. "I get it." He sends her a stiff grin. "I pretend the problem doesn't exist," he glances down at his hands, "and you run and run until you don't know how to do anything else," he finishes. She still doesn't say anything and he shakes his head, digging around in the first drawer of the counter, fingers grasping for the little slip of paper that's been there for months.. "Just go home, Thalia," he tells her gently. "And take this with you." He reaches across the counter, slip of paper in his hand.

Thalia turns around fully, stilling when she sees it, hurt swirling in her eyes. "A pink slip?" she mutters, looking at his sadly. She takes a half-step forward, hesitating before taking a second, then a third. "Percy—" she cuts herself off, unable to finish her thought.

He swallows. "You can't be here, remember?" he asks, repeating her earlier words. His tone isn't mocking like it was before, just—sad—tired. He's tired of living in the past. "You can take it now," he explains, "or hand in your resignation tomorrow." He holds the slip out further, but she doesn't take it. "Then, you can just keep running," he finishes.

Thalia doesn't take the pink slip. She just straightens her back and walks out, glass door slamming behind her. The little bell above the door rattles violently for several long seconds before the shop falls silent once again, not a sound in the shop besides the low hum of the radio in the back.

She didn't take the pink slip. He glances down at the paper before shoving it back in the drawer and slamming it shut. The container of spoons tipping to the side with the force of the drawer. She didn't take the pink slip. And he has no goddamn idea what that means.

Cursing under his breath, Percy storms into the back, once again wishing he had just stayed in bed this morning. It's turned out to be a pretty fucking awful day and he just wants to go home and forget today ever happened. God, he wishes Thalia hadn't shown up. It's been months since they've seen each other—even longer since they've spoken more than a few clipped sentences to each other.

He lashes out suddenly, foot slamming against the side of the nearest freezer—and, okay _oww!_ That was not the best idea he's ever had. _Fuck_. That hurts like a bitch. That was a really, really bad idea on his part. _Dammit_. Oh god, did he break his toe? Coach is going to kill him for injuring himself during the middle of his season. Wait—isn't it supposed to be really hard to prove a broken toe? Well, it _feels_ broken. Also, this is the second damn time he's hurt himself today—his face started to swell after he got to work and Travis didn't stop laughing for ten minutes.

Wow, it's been a really, _really_ bad day.

"You okay?" someone asks from behind him. Percy whirls around—well, kind of. He's hopping on one foot, so it's less of a whirl and more of a hop-and-trip-into-the-freezer-he-just-kicked. He meets Travis's gaze, expecting a snarky smile or an eyebrow wiggle, and if completely thrown for a loop at the serious expression on his friend's face.

Percy settles back onto his feet, clearing his throat awkwardly and ignoring his throbbing toe. "You heard that," he states, nodding towards the now empty front of the shop. It's not a question. You can hear everything in this shop. Besides, he and Thalia weren't exactly keeping their voices down.

Travis sends him a half-smile. "Percy, you should know by now that I hear everything," Travis tells him, shrugging slightly. Percy just nods, not sure what else to say, and heads back to the front without a word. "I think you're half-right, by the way," Travis calls after him, stopping him in his tracks.

Percy stills, one hand on the doorframe. "What?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder, a bemused frown on his lips.

Travis shrugs. "Thalia does need to stop running from what happened," he explains, "but so do you."

Percy inhales sharply. "I'll keep that in mind," he mumbles, teeth scraping against his lower lip gingerly.

Travis laughs. "You won't," he says, smiling widely, "because you're not ready to hear it yet." Percy looks away, but Travis doesn't stop. "You're not ready to stop running," he says, softer this time, "but when you are, we'll still be here."

Percy sends him a small smile back—genuine this time. "Thanks, Travis," he says honestly.

Travis shrugs, smile still firmly in place. "Anytime."

* * *

You know, Percy kind of likes it when the shop is empty. Partly because he doesn't actually have to do anything and gets to sit on his ass and watch Netflix—which he really shouldn't be doing, but it's better than staring at the door and willing people to come inside and order popsicles in the middle of fucking December. Chiron is crazy. Percy loves the guy and can't thank him enough for giving him this job, but he's absolutely nuts—and partly because it's quiet. It's like this little section of New York is cut off from the rest. There's no crazy loud noises or people shouting and cars screaming down the streets. It's just nice. It gives him time to think.

Well, that and this is the only decent place for Percy to study for finals—the library is too crowded and if he studies in the apartment he usually gets distracted by food or literally anything else because studying sucks. Not that he's actually studying here either. He didn't exactly have time to grab his books in his mad scramble this morning.

What a… what a shame.

So, yeah. He's just sitting there, watching Netflix on his phone and enjoying the relative silence of the shop when, at three-twenty on the dot, the front doors are shoved open so violently that Percy thinks they might have cracked—and for a moment Percy is terrified that Thalia's decided to come back and exact her revenge on him for being a complete douche-canoe earlier. And that's why he grabs the first thing he can find to defend himself.

On the plus side, his reflexes are hella great and he's ready for anything in the case of an emergency! Mugger? Angry body-builder? Homicidal frienemy that looks ready to kill him? No big deal, he's got it covered with his mad reflexes and excellent reaction timing! On the down side, all he manages to grab is a handful of assorted pastel spoons—which, yeah, that'll totally save his life when he's facing imminent doom. _Not_.

The moment of fearing for his life passes quickly, and in the next second he's pissed—because he _just_ cleaned those doors like ten minutes ago and if this idiot fucking _broke_ them he's going to have a few choice words for them! And a handful of colorful spoons that'll be shoved somewhere they should never be shoved!

His head snaps up, gaze furious as he glares at the newest resident of the shop, ready to open up a can of whoopass on this shithead—and it's just Connor and Jason.

Right. Because their shift starts at three-thirty. Obviously. He knew that.

Percy stealthily avoids looking like a complete crackpot by dropping the spoons back to the counter, pretending to rearrange them as Connor practically skips into the shop, Jason trailing behind him, lips turned down in a frown, eyes narrowed and a troubled look on his face.

Well, fuck. Percy loves these kids to death—they're still kids, dammit! At least to him they are! These are his kids!—but he's really had enough of high school drama to last a lifetime, and his day has been one big clusterfuck of let's-make-Percy-miserable, so he really doesn't need Jason drama on top of that.

He'll still listen though. He'll still listen.

Connor skips over to where Percy is sitting behind the counter slaps his brother on the back, gives Percy a dazzling grin, and then hops up onto the counter, effectively knocking over Percy's pastel spoon projectile and making a mess. (Why can't this shop just stay clean for once? Is that too much to ask?) It takes Jason several seconds longer to get to the counter, and when he does, he just plops down onto one of the stools there and drops his head onto the white surface without so much as a word.

Well, okay.

Percy sighs and begins to scoop the mess of spoons into one pile, then changes his mind and begins to sort them by color instead—he's bored, okay! He's been in this shop for three hours and he's only had about four customers, plus an angry run-in with Thalia. His day has been both frustrating and boring, and obviously his Netflix time is over! It was fun while it lasted.

"Well, 'hello' to you guys, too," Percy mutters under his breath, continuing to sort the spoons.

Connor grins at him, legs swinging back and forth. "Hey, Percy! What's up?" he snarks, voice overly bright.

Jason's only hello is a low groan against the table.

Percy decides to ignore that situation for the moment. "Well," he tells Connor, "I've spent all afternoon trying to coerce fourteen-year-olds to buy blue ice cream," he says simply, gesturing to the half-melted ice cream cone still sitting in the bowl where he dropped it earlier. Percy decides not to mention the fact that Thalia was here earlier. Jason looks like he's having a bad enough day.

Connor squints, leaning in close to the melted, blue mess. He cocks his head to the side, peering at it like it's about to come to life and eat him. Percy rolls his eyes and picks up a turquoise spoon, pointedly ignoring Connor when he _sniffs_ the ice cream—Connor, what the fuck? Why do you have to be like this?

"Is that blueberry?" Connor suddenly asks, giving Percy a wicked, shit-eating grin.

This motherfu— "It's not fucking blueberry!" Percy snaps, throwing the spoon at Connor's face. It bounces off his nose and Connor yelps, hissing slightly as he rubs his wound. Percy snorts, shaking his head. What a baby. "Where's Nico?" he asks, taking notice of the Three Stooges being one short.

Jason releases the most god-awful, dying whale sound and Percy drops the spoon he had just picked up, giving the younger male an odd look. Connor cackles. "Detention," he says simply.

Yeah, because that explains so much.

Percy frowns, leaning back on his chair. "Nico got detention?" he repeats slowly, the words not sounding right on his tongue. Nico isn't really the detention type. He's more of the get-through-school-unnoticed type. Detention isn't really part of his agenda. "For what?" Percy asks him.

Another wailing sound from Jason. Ha! Get it, because—yeah, okay, it wasn't that funny.

"Because Jason fell asleep in class," Connor tells him, shrugging slightly. "Which isn't that bad, actually. I've done a lot worse than that, so I don't know why Jason's being so sulky about it."

So, Jason falls asleep in class, and Nico gets detention? "I fail to see the correlation," Percy admits, not sure how that makes any sense whatsoever. Then again, high school didn't make much sense either.

"Mr. Geryon is a dick," Connor elaborates, without actually elaborating.

Percy nods, finally understanding. "That'll do it," he says. Mr. Geryon was the worst teacher ever. He once gave Percy detention for being a smart-ass—but Percy was only talking back because the guy was being a jerk to Grover in front of the entire class and it was giving him an anxiety attack! "So wait," Percy says, pointing between the two high schoolers. "Jason fell asleep in class, Nico got detention, and you didn't do anything bad today? You didn't manage to get detention at all this week?" he asks Connor, more than a little surprised and amused.

That's actually really hilarious that everyone got in trouble, except Connor! You know, the kid that's practically the poster-child for getting in trouble! He's not as bad as his brother, but that's still really hilarious.

Percy's also a little bit proud that Connor managed to stay out of trouble for one day.

Connor throws his hands up, huffing. "Well, I _tried_ to!" he exclaims, beginning to sulk, swinging his legs a little bit more recklessly than before.

Well then, never mind! "I was proud of you for a very short second there," Percy tells him, shaking his head.

Connor ignores him, just continues on raging about their terrible science teacher. "But instead of giving me after school detention, Mr. Geryon gave morning detention next week!" He frowns, lips pursing and eyes narrowing. "That, or I'm suspended next week. I wasn't really listening."

Percy sighs, dropping his head into his hands. "Just go put your uniform on," he tells Connor, who cackles and launches off the counter, presumably heading into the back.

What's that phrase? _Out of sight, out of mind?_ Yeah, if only it was that simple.

He lifts his head up, sighing through his nose. "You all right, Kid?" he asks Jason, bumping his arm gently with a plastic spoon.

Jason tilts his head to the side, meeting Percy's eyes. He nods, but says nothing. Percy nods, deciding to just let him be for now. Jason's probably just feeling guilty and he'll be fine as soon as Nico strolls into the shop later. That's how it usually goes.

The bell above the door chimes a moment later and Percy groans, not ready to deal with another customer today.

"Hot blonde alert!" Travis whispers, as he passes the counter, a rag in his hand. Percy glances up, giving Travis a dirty look. He's been giving Percy shit all day since he stumbled into the shop half-naked and wearing a hat that certainly wasn't his. Percy made the mistake of mentioning the blonde and Travis hasn't shut up about it since.

He's been pointing out every blonde that walks by the shop and it's fucking obnoxious!

Percy rolls his eyes before putting on his best customer service smile—only to have it fall right off his face a moment later.

Jason notices his stupefied expression and quickly turns around to look at the newcomer, his face breaking out in a smile when he sees them. "Hey, Annie!" he greets, slipping from his stool to give the girl—Annie, apparently—a hug.

The girl laughs, tossing her arms around a much taller Jason, gray eyes practically sparkling. "Hey, Jason," she laughs back, giggling when he lifts her straight off the ground and spins her around briefly before setting her back on her feet.

Travis gapes at them, looking about as surprised as Percy feels only for a completely different reason. "Whoa, Jason," he mutters. "You know the hot blonde."

Jason rolls his eyes, but the girl—Annie, he corrects—doesn't look concerned with Travis at all. No, she's too busy staring right back at Percy, her eyes widening just a bit as she finally sees him sitting behind the counter.

"Yeah, she was friends with Thalia when we used to live in Virginia! She used to babysit me because Thalia was a terrible caregiver," Jason tells Travis casually, sending Annie a curious look as she walks over to Percy, as if wondering what she'd want with him—Percy doesn't even have it in him to be offended at the moment.

"Hey, California," he murmurs as she walks up to him, bracing his elbows against the counter. And there she is, the girl he literally ran into this morning. The girl he was never expecting to see again in his life, because New York is a big city.

She does the same, leaning forward, hair spilling around her face now that it's not being held back by her hat—which he should probably return to her. He takes note of how she still isn't taller than him, even though he's sitting down. "Gelato boy," she greets in response, lips pulling up in a very pretty smile. He doesn't miss the once over she gives him, gaze flitting from his eyes down his torso, and then back up—she's not even shy about it, and he can't say he really minds.

Percy rolls his eyes good-naturedly, a smile creeping across his own face as he leans forward the slightest bit, ignoring the awed and confused expressions on the other boys' faces. "Is that really what you're gonna call me?" he asks teasingly.

She grins back at him, lips parting to reveal her teeth. "Well, I never did get your name," she reminds him, leaning a bit closer. "And I figured it's better than 'attractive half-naked boy that almost knocked my very expensive very delicate camera into the Hudson river.' " she jokes, giving him a sly look.

Behind her, Travis chokes on his spit, a high-pitched wheezing leaving him before Jason quickly slaps him on the back. It takes Percy a moment to realize they're staring, but he hardly cares.

"Almost being the key word there," he jokes, quirking a brow at her. Is he flirting? Is they flirting? He's not entirely sure what's happening right now. Girls don't flirt with him—and if they do, he certainly doesn't notice! He's bad at this, okay! Oh god, is he sweating? Shit, maybe she won't notice.

"Really?" she laughs, leaning back, palms flat on the counter as she arches a perfect eyebrow—oh for the love of—shut up! "I would think half-naked would be a pretty key word there," she tells him, once again glancing down at his now covered torso.

Oh, so she wants to play it like that? "Why, you like what you see?" he asks her, grinning, wiggling his eyebrows.

She bites her lower lip, trying to keep herself from cracking up, and Percy has to do the same. Travis and Jason both look extremely uncomfortable. _Good_ , Percy thinks, _let them be uncomfortable_. "I'm just surprised you're wearing clothes," she tells him, reaching out to tug at his sleeve as she leans in incredibly close to him. He swallows thickly, mouth suddenly very, very dry. "I thought you were a nudist," she whispers, lips almost brushing his ear. (Travis starts choking again, but this time Jason just continues to stare instead of help him. Connor is still nowhere to be seen. And Percy simply doesn't care.) "And we wouldn't want you to be arrested for public indecency, now would we?" she asks, shaking her head.

Percy shakes his head as well, putting on a mock-serious expression. "No we wouldn't want that," he agrees.

Her expression is suddenly serious. "You didn't have this earlier," she murmurs, thumb running lightly across his cheek. He grimaces, but doesn't pull away. She settles back on her heels, hand dropping from the side of his face.

"That's because it didn't start swelling until after I left you," he tells her, smiling softly.

She laughs breathlessly. "Let me guess?" she jokes, locking eyes with him. "I should see the other guy."

He clears his throat, suddenly embarrassed. Percy looks away from her for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Actually," he tells her slowly, cringing a little, "the other guy is a wet floor so…" She snickers, a hand flying to her lips to smother the noise. Percy can't say he's mad that she's laughing. "So what are you doing here?" he asks, wincing after he says it. "I mean, here, here. I thought you said your uncle owns an ice cream shop in town," he babbles, "and this seems a bit like cheating to me."

She smiles, lips parting—and then the bell rings again, cutting off whatever answer she might have had. That's when Chiron walks into the shop, the name "Annabeth!" being called out as soon as he sees her.

Oh. Well, he didn't see that one coming.

* * *

 **AN: Percy didn't see it coming, but most of you probably did! Big thank you to everyone that reads/reviews! I appreciate it a lot!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: This one is really long guys! 10K+ Enjoy!**

 **Kairos**

 **Chapter Six**

* * *

Honestly, Percy probably should have seen this coming—from, like, a mile away. Of _course_ Chiron is her uncle. Chiron is the only one crazy enough to keep an ice cream shop open during the winter! Percy has literally never seen any other place that sells frozen desserts open in the middle of December. Not that he's claiming to have seen every ice cream place in the entirety of New York City, because he _probably_ hasn't—it's a strong probably, because, frankly, Percy spends a lot of time loitering around places he really shouldn't—but seriously? _Of course_ it would be Chiron. Partly because that makes way more sense than it being some other random dude, and partly because Percy's luck is just that horrible. _Seriously, how did he not see that coming?_

In hindsight, that was glaringly obvious. She _told him_ she was meeting with her uncle—well, she didn't _tell him_ tell him, but he kind of assumed. Girl says she's staying with her uncle and is traversing around the city? Yeah, there's only so many ways that could go. Plus, Chiron had to leave early for some secret reason—which Percy definitely didn't think had to do with the mafia. Nope. not at all—and the fact that they had talked about the ice cream shop after he _literally ran into her_. Yeah, the dots were all there and he just didn't connect them. And now he kind of feels the urge to smack himself across the face—or maybe he'll get Travis to do it, then he won't look like such a damn fool in front of the pretty girl— _Annabeth_ , he notes, _is a very pretty name_ —that he's been flirting with and who's _definitely maybe kind of_ been flirting with him too.

Oh, fuck! He's been flirting with his boss's _niece_! Granted, he didn't know she was Chiron's niece— _but he's been flirting with his boss's niece_! Isn't that, like, grounds for immediate termination? Of his job, not his life, of course. Hopefully. Chiron wouldn't kill him right? Because that's kind of illegal and Percy really doesn't want to die. At least not yet. He was totally joking when he asked the Gods to smite him earlier! He didn't mean it! He wants to live long enough to watch the third _How to Train Your Dragon_ movie!

Okay. Okay. Maybe if he just stays calm and doesn't make an ass of himself nothing bad will happen. He'll just remain calm and hope that Travis doesn't say something stupid to Chiron about how Percy basically flashed his niece and then proceeded to flirt with her rather heavily— _twice_. In very public places. And it's the reason he was late to work. But that's not important. What's important is that he keeps his mouth shut and tries not to say anything even mildly sexual. It's a good thing he doesn't work at a hot-dog place—because he'd probably say something gross about a wiener and end up fired or get his teeth kicked in. (Frankly, Travis has been more inappropriate than Percy has—well, not really. Travis hasn't been partially naked around her yet. _Yet?_ Hopefully it's not a "yet.")

Maybe he just shouldn't say anything at all.

That's probably the best option, honestly. Nothing can go wrong if he just keeps his mouth shut, right? God, he wishes Grover was here right now. Grover would be able to fix this. To bad Percy had to fucking _break his nose_ this morning. He went and took his only ally out of the game before it even started. The one damn time he needs a wingman and he fucking breaks the guys nose. Good job, Percy, real smooth.

He really should have just stayed in bed this morning. He really, _really_ should have. Is it too late for him to fake sick and run out the back door screaming? Yes?

Oh, well! Too late now! And, wow, did it just get really awkward in here or what? Nothing like getting caught in inappropriate flirtations to crank up the awkwardness scale!

Percy inhales sharply, eyes widening as his gaze flickers between Annabeth and where Chiron is standing by the door, realizing for the first time just how close he and Annabeth are leaning towards each other. Well, he knew they were pretty damn close before—but, wow! They are really fucking close. Like, so close that he can smell her hair and see all the little flecks of colors in her eyes and all of those other creepy, cliché things. She exhales and he can feel her breath against the side of his neck, making his skin crawl in the most pleasant way.

 _Oh, fuck._

Is it completely inappropriate of him to hope she doesn't back away? Because, yeah, he really hopes she stays right there, just like that. That's probably really creepy of him to hope, but hey, she's the one breathing all over his neck and— _is she smiling at him_? She is! She's grinning at him! Hold shit, is she doing this on purpose? His boss— _her uncle_ —is right there! Literally, right there!

He's going to get fired. Yup. He might as well just turn in his uniform right now. Goodbye vest and stupid tie that makes his neck itchy! It was a good run, but it's time for him to go now! The stupid manager tie will probably be passed to Grover, or maybe Travis—God help them all—and Percy and Grover will lose their apartment or be forced to get a third roommate! Which, would kind of suck, because their apartment is already small enough as is, and they really don't have room for someone else at the moment, unless they buy bunk beds, but no one wants to deal with that (plus it's really fucking dangerous to have sex on bunk beds. Don't do it).

Also Travis would make a terrible manager, so technically it's Chiron's loss.

Okay, he really needs to calm down. Chiron's not going to fire him, because technically he hasn't broken any of the rules in the employee handbook. Because they don't have a handbook. Basically, the rules are just "don't kill anyone" and "don't do anything your mother's would be ashamed of," which Percy thinks is pretty solid advice.

And Percy's mom would definitely not be ashamed of Percy successfully flirting with a pretty girl. Hell, she'd probably be cheering him on. Which is still really weird.

Percy clears his throat suddenly, finally managing to rip his gaze away from Annabeth long enough to actually _look_ at everyone else in the room. Travis and Jason both look an odd combination of disgusted and horrified— _really, Jason? Really?_ Percy can't flirt with the pretty girl that technically came onto him, but Jason is allowed to make out with Piper in the freezer? Which is really gross and kind of weird. Why would you want to make out in a freezer? It's cold as fuck in there. Also, this is an ice cream shop, so that is literally the worst place to hide and get any kind of privacy. Want to know how Percy knows that? Because he's fucking walked in on them at least twelve times in the past two months! And that's part of the reason they work separate shifts now!

And really, if you're going to try to be sneaky about it, you should at least look for a better place to hide. Not that they should have been making out at work anyway, but…

He sneaks a peak a Chiron, prepared to run if the other man looks ready to kill him, only for his mouth to drop open in surprise as he sees a smile on Chiron's face. A confused smile, but a smile nonetheless!

Point for Percy! He's not gonna die today!

"Annabeth," Chiron grins, quirking an elegant brow at her—fuck Chiron's elegantly bushy brows. How is that even possible?—"You know Percy?" he asks her, shutting the door behind him as he steps fully into the building. Chiron peers between them with a bemused gaze, before smiling good-naturedly. "Well, I suppose that's just one less introduction!" He laughs, running a hand through his curly hair and shaking some snow from his beard.

He should have known better than to think Chiron would kill him. Chiron trying to kill him is about as likely as _Invader Zim_ getting a reboot!

Annabeth giggles, a soft, gentle sound and Percy feels his face start to heat up, a flush working it's way down his neck. She sends him an amused look and Percy can't help but send her a crooked smile back.

"Yeah," she tells Chiron, twisting slightly to face him, but not turning her back on Percy. "He's the one I was telling you about earlier." She tosses him a look over her shoulder, giving him a sly smile.

Chiron nods, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. Travis snickers and Jason sends him an odd look, eyes narrowing just the slightest as he glances at Percy and Annabeth, obviously not understanding what's so funny about it. Jason quickly nudges Travis, whispering something Percy can't hear—no doubt it has something to do with the inside joke though.

Percy grins right back at Annabeth, leaning forward across the counter, elbows braced against the marble surface. He quirks a brow at her, not for the first time wishing he was able to wiggle his eyebrows like Travis can— _damn him and his dexterous facial hair_. "So you were talking about me?" he murmurs to her, voice low. Honestly, he would probably tell people stories about the weird, partially naked guy down by the river, too—in fact, he did. That was literally the first thing he told Travis when he walked through the doors this afternoon. He practically tackled the poor guy as soon as he saw him, babbling incoherently about what happened— _but still_.

Annabeth smirks and tosses him a rather unabashed look. "Well," she teases, gaze drifting south of his neck, "you did leave quite the first impression." Her eyes snap back to his and he _swears_ she just winked at him and— _wow_ , is it hot in here or is it just him?

(Percy's practically lying on the counter at this point—well, not really, but—yeah, he's kind of, almost, but not quite, lying on the counter at this point. In fact, one could argue that he's _draped_ himself across the counter to be closer to her. Because that's not weird at all.)

He smiles down at her. "So did you," he tells her—sincerely and a hell of a lot softer than he meant to. (Shit, that was corny. Like, really fucking corny. He needs to stop reading Hallmark cards. Not that he's doing that on purpose or anything. It just sort of happens when he's studying at that Caribou Coffee down the block. He doesn't know why they sell Hallmark cards, but there they are, and there he is, and they're definitely better than trigonometry or whatever the hell his math class is. He doesn't know.) Annabeth's smirk slips into something softer as a light dusting of pink spreads across her cheeks, highlighting the small spatter of pale freckles across the bridge of her nose. For a moment he thinks about doing something stupid—like counting them, but jerks back when a strangled sound reaches his ears.

Annabeth's eyes widen a fraction before she wrenches back, entire body tensing in surprise—which, you know, _darn_ , but _oh well_. Percy's going to kill whoever decided to interrupt… whatever _that_ was.

He glances around her, rolling his eyes when he sees Jason makes a gagging motion, looking rather green in the face from watching them. _Shut up, Jason,_ he thinks, _you're the one that always got caught awkwardly making out with Piper in all your pre-pubescent glory._ Honestly, they weren't even really flirting at that point. Well, not heavy flirting. Jason is acting like Percy was about to vault over the counter and make out with her, which, _newsflash_ , he wasn't!

Because that would be inappropriate for the work setting—not that Chiron really enforces fraternization rules. Well, not that Percy knows of. He doesn't usually have anyone to fraternize with. Plus, PDA isn't really his thing—haha _yes it is_. And also because Chiron is _right there_ and that would be really awkward and did he mention inappropriate? He's not going to kiss his boss's niece right in front of said boss! That's just a bad idea waiting to happen, never mind the fact that he barely knows the girl. Plus, if Percy's going to kiss a girl for the first time in who knows how long—which isn't as embarrassing as it sounds! _He's single and proud!_ —it's not going to be in front of his boss and two idiot co-workers.

Percy does have _some_ decency and class. His mama taught him better than that.

He hears Annabeth scoff and his gaze slips back to her just in time to catch her decisively unamused expression as she rolls her eyes at Jason. Her gaze locks with his for a half-second mid-roll and the corner of her lips twitch ever so slightly. She turns back to Jason without a second glance.

Speaking of Jason—he notices Percy and Annabeth staring at him with matching deadpanned expressions and stops short of another mock gag, his face turning a lovely shade of _I fucked up_ red. Which honestly looks quite dashing on him. The utter mortification at being caught goes well with his pretty, blue eyes and "I'm a jock" haircut that Percy kind of wants to shave off while Jason's asleep—because dear god, he fucking hates Jason's hair so much.

Jason stares back at the pair for an incredibly awkward several seconds as none of them move. Percy stares blankly, wanting nothing more than to go dig a nice hole and shove Jason into it. Annabeth stares and presses her lips together in utter disappointment. Jason stares, looking like he'd gladly jump into the hypothetical hole that Percy dug. And Travis and Chiron just keep glancing between the three of them with expressions that Percy can't read.

Finally, after several tense seconds, Jason slowly— _cautiously_ —raises an arm to his mouth. He then proceeds to pretend to cough.

 _Because that's not obvious at all._

Jason isn't exactly the slickest person on the planet. He tries though, he really does. Percy will give him points for trying, even if the execution is something out of a _Magic Tree House_ book. No shade on _Magic Tree House,_ of course. Those books were the shit back when he was in third grade. Of course, reading was—still is—kind of a problem because dyslexia is a total bitch that likes to kick him in the balls while he's already down.

Of course, because it's _Jason_ , everything has to go horribly wrong and someone has to get hurt. It's inevitable, really. Jason is a trouble magnet. And not in the same way that the rest of them seem to attract danger. No, Jason is more of an _oops! I broke my arm again!_ trouble magnet, whereas the rest of them just spent most of high school in detention for pulling stupid pranks. (Percy is particularly proud of the time they released a llama into the principal's office. He's not sure where Travis found the llama, but it was great!)

(Travis and Percy had their own seats in detention. Not like, assigned seat, or anything. Just, _their seats_. As in, they spent so much time in detention that they claimed two of the seats in the back. Travis even carved his name into his. That was a good day. They bought enchiladas afterwards and Grover got stuck in a hole—which is unrelated, but it was _hilarious_.)

Anyway, Jason. He ruins everything—and Percy means that in the _nicest way possible_ —so, of course, his fake coughing turns into real coughing. Jason's eyes widen for a split second before he doubles over, making gross wheezing sounds as he practically hacks up a lung. Which is really disgusting, honestly. Percy could have lived his entire life without hearing and seeing Jason practically dry heave in the middle of the shop. Because that's definitely appetizing. It's a wonder that they don't have customers lining up at the door.

(He's kidding, of course. The shop is great and usually business is booming. Just not in winter, because everyone with common sense knows that people _don't want ice cream when it's negative ten degrees and their toes are freezing off_. You know what, whatever. It doesn't matter. Percy's just glad he actually has a decent job, considering what happened. Sure, Chiron can be a little wacky and sometimes Percy wants to low key murder his colleagues, but overall he loves his job and the people he works with.)

You know what? Percy's going to buy Jason a bubble for Christmas this year. One of those big blow up ones that you can walk—roll? —around in and stay safe from all harm—except for, like, a really big truck, or _a maniac with a sword_ , but how likely is that? Not very! Probably. This is New York, after all. Anything and everything can happen. Regardless, it's a perfect plan. That way Jason can go a day without breaking himself in some way, shape, or form. And hopefully he won't be able to break anything else either. That, or the bubble might just make everything worse. Who knows.

Is that a mean gift? Yes? Too bad. For the sake of the world, Jason needs a damn safety bubble. A very large, very childproof safety bubble. That would solve about thirty percent of Percy's work related issues and cut Jason's future hospital bills down by ninety percent. It's a win-win for everyone!

Well, except for Piper, because then she can't kiss him anymore, but frankly that's not Percy's problem. That's the opposite of a Percy problem, honestly. He doesn't give a shit about Jason and Piper's romantic endeavors. In fact, that's probably the last thing he'd ever want to know about. To bad he has to see it all the damn time.

Jason releases another wheezing sound and Annabeth straightens, sending a backwards glance Percy's way before taking a step forward. (Which totally makes her a better person than the rest of them. Percy is pretty content to just sit and watch a little longer—because Jason deserves to choke for a little while—because that's what happens when you're a _jerk_. And Travis is basically just picking his nails while Jason is dying next to him. Yeah, Percy is never counting on Travis to have his back in a life or death situation.) Before Annabeth can take another step, Travis glances sideways at the younger boy, blows a stray strand of curly hair out of his face, then rolls his eyes before—apparently—taking pity on Jason and slapping him on the back, sending him stumbling a step forward. Jason wheezes for a moment more before falling silent, the flush slowly draining from his face.

Well, that was an adventure.

There's a very long, very awkward pause before Chiron clears his throat, ripping his gaze away from Jason and locking eyes with Percy instead, who straightens immediately under the intense gaze of his boss, entire body tensing as Chiron sends him a slightly narrow look, lips pursed. He crosses his arms, but says nothing for a long moment, just stares and stares until Percy's skin starts to crawl.

Damn, he had no idea Chiron could be _that_ intimidating. Especially for a middle-aged man that can't walk around without a cane—on account of an old injury that Chiron doesn't like to talk about. Then again, that cane could very well be Chiron's secret weapon to be used against unassuming Percys that high key flirt with his niece right in front of him.

At this point he only has himself to blame for whatever happens next. He brought this on himself by accidentally thinking it was Saturday.

"So, Percy," Chiron starts, raising a mildly bushy brow at him, head tilting to the side in thought. "I'm guessing that—" he gestures between Percy and Annabeth with a wave of his hand—"is why you were late this afternoon?" he asks slowly, sending a sly look Annabeth's way, a grin tugging at the edges of his lips.

Annabeth shoots her uncle a look that Percy can't see—oh, but he can guess what that look is. It's probably the same one he had on his face when his mom tried to hook him up with that random girl at the grocery store when he was seventeen. That was not a fun day. That was a _really_ not fun day—and shakes her head so slowly he can barely see her move.

Percy coughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he sneaks a sideways look at Annabeth before practically ripping his gaze away from her and meeting Chiron's stare guiltily.

Wait, why is he guilty? Technically, he didn't know Annabeth was Chiron's niece until like five minutes ago—hell, he didn't even know her _name_ , much less the fact that Chiron even _has_ a niece. Like, that would have been nice to know! It wouldn't have helped him in the long run, but it still would have been nice to know that the pretty girl that could probably flip him over her head is related to his boss, you know, before everything got awkward.

Then again, he was late to work, which made Chiron late for a lunch with his niece AKA Annabeth AKA the girl Percy ran into roughly half-naked. Percy isn't really sure how often they get to see each other, but judging by the context clues, it's not very often.

Yeah, he should probably feel more guilty than he does.

He forces a smile on his face as he looks at Chiron. "That would be a correct assumption, yes," he replies, hoping his death will be swift and merciful and not _too_ bloody. He'd like an open casket funeral, thanks. Or maybe cremation would be nice. He could get Grover to sprinkle his ashes over the ocean or some cliché thing like that. That might be cool. Vaguely disgusting when you think about it, but cool.

Chiron nods, raising a hand to stroke his beard—which is weird and the number one reason that Percy will _never_ let his stubble become anything more than stubble. Lord help him if he ends up being the creepy cartoon villain with ridiculous facial hair and a fluffy cat. Actually, the cat wouldn't be that bad. At least then he'd have someone to hang out with on date nights. "Well," Chiron shrugs, "that's strike one." He sends Percy an easy grin, the stern outer appearance practically melting away.

What the hell does "strike one" mean? Since when has this shop had a strike system? Has that been in place this entire damn time? Because Percy has so many strikes he would have liked to give out over the years. Moreover, how has he managed to go this long without getting a strike? How would a strike system even work? Would it be like, three strikes you get a time out— "oh, shit, Jason! You broke three things today, go sit in the freezer, you dirty gremlin!"—or would it be more like, three strikes and you're fired?

Percy's head cocks to the side, sharing a bemused look with Travis before turning back to Chiron, eyes narrowing. He purses his lips, taking in the older man's grin with suspicion. "What do you mean 'strike one?' " he asks slowly, straightening his back and crossing his arms over his chest, eying Chiron from across the room. It sounds vaguely threatening, but Chiron is smiling about it, which is either a really good thing, or a really, really bad thing. Percy's not sure which and there's absolutely no in-between.

He swallows, lips pressed into a thin line as he locks eyes with Chiron. "What happens if I get three?" He quirks a brow, searching Chiron's eyes for some sort of answer, but finding nothing. Percy exhales through his nose, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought.

Immediately after he asks, Chiron's eyes practically begin to twinkle, and Percy's seen enough movies to know that that's a bad thing. If his life was a movie, this would be the part where he blacked out and woke up hours later in a bathtub filled with ice, disoriented and missing a kidney. Is Chiron secretly a black-market organ thief? Hell if Percy knows. He doesn't even know his social security number off the top of his head, much less what hypothetical illegal activities Chiron does in his free time.

(Percy's still set on Chiron being in the mafia. He hardly spends any time at the shop unless he has to be here, and this place isn't exactly raking in the cash for about five months out of the year, yet somehow Percy's making twice minimum wage. Chiron has to be doing something else to make money, and Percy would bet on it being the mafia. That, or Chiron's a master at poker. In which case he needs to teach Percy everything he knows.)

"Strike three means you get demoted back to an ordinary employee and lose your position as manager," Chiron tells him, shrugging half-heartedly. "In which case, Travis becomes the new manager."

Percy snorts, huffing a laugh under his breath. "Well that's fine," he replies, smirking slightly. He glances at Travis, who's gone stark white, all the blood leaving his face, and rolls his eyes. So dramatic. Then again, he's can't really say anything about drama. Percy's the biggest damn dramatic hoe there is. "I didn't want to be the manager anyway." Check and mate.

"Yeah," Travis starts slowly, blanching at Chiron and shifting awkwardly on his feet, "I don't really want to be manager either," he admits, shrugging a shoulder and leaning back against one of the booths. "Percy's looked completely dead inside ever since you put him in charge, and I don't want that to happen to me." Travis sends Percy a pointed look and shoves off the booth, leaving Jason's side to hop the counter—nearly kicking Annabeth in the process and receiving the most wicked glare Percy has ever seen—and rests his elbows against the clean surface, absentmindedly playing with a stray straw.

Percy heaves a completely over-the-top sigh and nods in agreement, an incredibly somber expression on his face—he elects to ignore the slight rolling of Travis's eyes and the elbow that's been abruptly shoved into his ribcage. "I feel dead inside," he tells them all, only half-joking. College will do that to you. It'll make you stressed beyond belief until you're craving the sweet release of _death_.

Thank fuck it's almost winter break, because Percy is basically running on fumes and twelve cups of coffee a day—which is _not_ healthy in the slightest—he's pretty sure that yesterday he could _hear colors_. Grover says he needs to cut back on the caffeine, but with finals coming up that's practically impossible. Besides, Percy's too tired to care. He just wants to sleep for six months, is that too much to ask for? Maybe he should put that on his Christmas list.

Six months of sleep, a new coffee pot, and one of those weird hanging racks for clothes. Wow, that's almost worse than getting socks for Christmas when he was eight.

Being an adult blows. He regrets every stupid thing he said back in middle school and early high school about wanting to be an adult and move out. Because you know what, fourteen year old Percy? In five years you're going to be living in an apartment with no heat during winter and you only know how to cook instant noodles and chili—and half the time you're not sure if you even like chili—and you're constantly trying not to cry as everything piles up around you! You don't know shit!

Enjoy you're childhood while it lasts, motherfucker, because you're going to wish you listened to Mom when she tried to teach you to make lasagna. But no, instead you had to go play whatever stupid video game Travis and Connor wanted to play, because you were an idiot.

If Percy could go back in time he would slap himself. And then he would slap Travis, too. Just for fun. Actually, there's a lot of things he would change if he could, but he can't. He missed that opportunity the first time around. Now, all he can do is try to make things right after royally fucking things up. Hell, he' just lucky to have a stable job and a place to sleep at night. Given what he did, things could be a lot worse.

He's jolted from his thoughts by Travis slapping him on the back—which is fucking rude! Percy hisses through his teeth, shooting Travis a half-hearted glare out of the corner of his eye. Travis doesn't seem to notice this, simply continuing to pat him on the back, much gentler this time.

"That's rough buddy," he coos, a slight twinkle in his eyes.

Percy's head snaps up, his jaw dropping slightly as whirls around to face Travis with wide eyes. Did he just…? "Did you just—?" Percy stops short, unable to form the words _because of course he did_. Instead he just stares blankly at his friend, gaping at him like a fish out of water. " _Disrespectful!_ "

Wow. _Wow_. Travis comes into Percy's shop—well, no. Travis comes into _Chiron's_ shop and disrespects him like this. How dare he use a perfectly timed _Avatar_ reference on Percy? He's the one that introduced Travis to the show in the first place! Sometimes they still get together for a weekend rewatch! After all he's done for Travis—like feeding him at least four times per week, or letting him do his laundry at his Percy and Grover's apartment instead of making him go to the Laundromat so someone can potentially steal his clothes again—or letting him sleep on the couch whenever Travis's roommate kicks him out so he can have sex—admittedly their couch kind of sucks, but it's better than the _floor_ —this is how he repays him. Percy will not tolerate this level of disrespect!

Percy can hear Jason snickering from where he's standing—which Percy will deal with _later_ —but the sound is drowned out by a soft sound from across the counter. Annabeth snorts, lips pressing together in a thin line that she quickly hides with her hand, shoulders shaking slightly with muffled laughter.

Great, she thinks _Travis_ is funny.

Percy's about to start crying on the inside—because _the injustice_ —when Annabeth meets his eyes and sends him a small, slightly crooked smile that makes him feel a hell of a lot better about Travis being a backstabber. She holds his gaze for a moment, lips quirking up farther at the edges, then shoots a sideways glance at Travis and rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

Travis, of course, doesn't notice this, being far too busy playing with a bendy straw and mentally congratulating himself on _being a little bitch_.

Yeah, Percy's going to enjoy chewing him out later. Maybe Percy should put him on bathroom duty. Or schedule him for ridiculous night shifts—after finals of course. Oh, even better! He'll just sabotage Travis's attempts to woo Katie! Though, Travis seems to do that well enough on his own… Regardless, _let's see who's laughing next time you need a wingman Travis._

Before Percy can snap back at Travis, Chiron's phone _wails_ shrilly, causing the straw to slip from Travis's hands and roll off the counter onto the floor, where it disappears into some dark corner of the shop to be lost for days until one of them is finally forced to really give the floor a good cleaning.

Percy stiffens, inhaling sharply at the sudden noise, but otherwise doesn't move, whereas Jason flinches back against a booth where he's standing, closer to Chiron than the rest of them, and winces at the ear-grating shriek—more of a scream than a ring.

Annabeth barely bats an eyelash, gaze merely slipping away from Percy's to flick towards her uncle. Because apparently the damn banshee sound doesn't bother her at all. That's hardcore.

The sound cuts off as suddenly as it was there, falling silent as Chiron slips the phone from his pocket, his eyebrows pinching together a moment later, lips twist down in a grimace, a heavy sigh leaving him. His shoulders droop the slightest bit, mouth pressing into a thin line in the same way that Annabeth's had as he rolls his eyes at whatever the reminder says.

Umm, ouch? Why the hell does Chiron have that set as his message tone? Is he _deaf_? Because if he's not, Percy certainly is _now_. Yikes. That sounded like a freaking banshee—or a middle school band. Whichever is worse.

Chiron sighs and shoves his phone back into his pocket, rubbing a tired hand along his jaw. "Well," he grumbles, sending them all a very thin smile that look more like a scowl than anything else. Wow. Percy didn't even know Chiron could make an expression like that. "It seems like I'll be needing to leave you all for a few moments," he tells them somberly, "our dear… _friend,_ " Chiron trails off slightly before shaking his head and clearing his throat, "Mr. D seems to need my assistance. As usual."

Oh, well that makes more sense. Chiron chose and obnoxious ringtone that could make people's ears start to bleed, because Mr. D is just that fucking annoying. The only real difference Percy can see between the two is that the ringtone can be muted!

Travis blanches, a look of absolute disgust creeping over his face. "Ugh, I hate that guy," he seethes. "He's the embodiment of horrible customers."

Annabeth wrinkles her nose. "Is he the one that always orders red wine ice cream and gets smashed every weekend?" she asks curiously. Huh, Chiron must have told her a little bit about their regulars—or at least _this_ regular. Percy kind of wonders why Chiron would tell her about their infamous customers, but, frankly, everyone needs to bitch about Mr. D sometimes.

Percy snorts, resting his elbows against the countertop and leaning closer to her. "Yup!" he tells her, faking cheer. "Every. Damn. Weekend." Not to mention that's it's only about four o'clock. Well, it's midnight somewhere.

"He buys it in bulk," Jason tells them, flopping down into the nearest booth and almost disappearing completely from sight, save for his legs spilling over the side.

Travis shakes his head in disagreement, making at face at where Jason was. "Nah, man," he scoffs, "he binges it on Friday nights. Gets completely wasted, which is amazing, considering he has the tolerance of a man three times his size." Travis leans across the counter like Percy, this time speaking to Annabeth. "Then, he likes to drunk dial the shop at least six times during the night—which is _really_ annoying, let me tell you."

How much alcohol is there in wine flavored ice cream anyway? Like, how much ice cream would you have to eat to get _shitfaced_? Important questions!

Percy nods along with Travis, grinning down at Annabeth, who blinks back at him, an amused expression on her face. "You wouldn't believe some of the things he's told us," Percy mock whispers, unable to wipe the grin from his lips. He glances at his friend. "Right, Travis?"

"Oh yeah," Travis says excitedly, looking very much like the cat that got the cream as a positively wicked grin spreads across his face. "Like this one time, he was telling us about his grandmother—a very sweet old lady, she ordered from us once, really likes rocky road ice cream—and the wild affair she had with this Venezuelan guy named—"

"Yes," Chiron clears his throat abruptly, cutting off Travis quickly and sending him a reprimanding stare. Which is basically the equivalent of your mother trying to guilt trip you by saying she's "not mad, just so, so disappointed," which is both underhanded and one-hundred-percent effective. Granted, they really shouldn't be airing their customers' dirty laundry to the world. "That would be Mr. D."

"The D stands for 'douchebag,' " Percy whispers to Annabeth, softly this time, so Chiron can't hear. She snorts, teething her lower lip to hide a smile.

Travis snickers. "Or any other not so nice name that starts with a 'D.' "

And that would be the running joke. Mr. D has this horrible habit of never remembering anyone's name. Ever. Percy has brought the guy his ice cream at least thirty times, maybe more, and the guy doesn't know his name. It's like he purposely goes out of his way to get it wrong. He ignores the nametags on their uniforms—pretends they aren't even there, and Percy's pretty sure he's never used the same name twice for any of them.

There can't possibly be that many names that start with "P" and make sense, but somehow Mr. D has managed to never call Percy by his actual name. Meaning, the name everyone calls him, not his birth name. He doesn't really make a habit of telling people his full name. They usually laugh.

Annabeth grins at Travis, giving him an over exaggerated nod. "I'm sure it does," she jokes back, gaining a toothy smile from Travis in return.

Chiron doesn't seem to hear them. That, or he's just ignoring them completely. Either way, he doesn't scold them for mocking one of their best (worst?) customers in front of his niece, so that's a plus. Chiron glances down at his watch, fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot impatiently. "Yes," he sighs, "well, I better bring him his order before he starts calling me every five minutes to complain about our customer service and threaten to leave us a bad review."

He shakes his head one final time before crossing the distance between where he was standing and the front counter, giving Annabeth's shoulder a quick squeeze and murmuring something Percy doesn't catch before leaving to grab Mr. D's usual order.

Travis has the decency to wait until Chiron disappears into the freezer before he tosses his head back and cackles. "Yeah, we wouldn't want that." He rolls his eyes, still snickering.

It's the same thing every week. Mr. D tells them to have his order ready by nine, then calls at some absurd time in the afternoon complaining that his order is late—which it clearly isn't, he's just an asshole. He then proceeds to call every five minutes on the dot to further complain that his order hasn't been delivered, despite the fact that he always changes his delivery time and lives a good twenty minutes away.

He's never left them a bad review though, and he tips _great_. Like, Percy can afford to buy decent groceries this week, great. Though, that might be because he's usually halfway to utterly shitfaced to really care how much he's tipping. Not that Percy minds all that much.

If the rich guy wants to blow his money on alcoholic ice cream from a little hole in the wall place, that's his decision. Percy's not complaining. Hell, Mr. D's probably a large part of the reason Percy hasn't died of scurvy or some shit.

Jason pops up from behind the booth. "It hasn't been that bad for a while though," he tells Annabeth, leaning forward with his arms crossed against the back of the booth. "Not for at least a few months, anyway," he muses. "He only gets super demanding around the holidays."

Percy nods. "The last time it got really bad was the 4th of July," Percy elaborates. "He was exceptionally drunk, angry, and a little bit homicidal, if I'm being honest." Annabeth's eyes widen a fraction, her head tilting to the side in confusion and something like concern. He laughs, but there's nothing funny about it. "Let me tell you," he lowers his voice, speaking to her in nothing more than a husky whisper, "it was _not_ a good night for anyone involved."

Travis grinds his teeth, his jaw popping. "Seventeen missed calls, three angry voice mails, and a strongly worded email with some language that I will not repeat in front of a lady," he tells Annabeth with a tight smile, trying to make a joke, but it falls flat.

That night was… _stressful_ , to say the least. It left them all on edge for the rest of the night. Hell, Percy could barely fall asleep that night, he was too wound up and just waiting for his phone to start ringing. Yeah, that was a really shitty holiday.

Percy props his head up on his hand. "We would have told him to shove it if Chiron wasn't his friend," he mumbles, still wishing they actually had told him to take his weird, alcoholic ice cream and shove it up his—

"We say 'friend' very loosely, by the way," Travis adds, pointing a plastic spoon at Annabeth, making Percy frown. Where the hell did he get that?

"Mr. D doesn't have friends," Percy says simply, "just people he can tolerate slightly more than others." He's not sure how Chiron made it on that list, but their boss seems to be the only person that Mr. D can stand to be in the presence of for more than ten minutes without insulting them or throwing them out of his house.

Which is great for Chiron? If he's into the whole "I hate everyone but you" thing. Personally, that's not the kind of friend that Percy would want. Then again, it's not really a friend situation. It's just that Chiron enables Mr. D to get wasted by four in the afternoon (why would you want to be drunk that early in the first place?) and Mr. D helps to keep Chiron in business.

Woohoo, friendship.

That's probably the scariest part about adulthood. No one over forty has friends. Just the people they work with and the people they know in passing. Sounds great. Percy can't wait to get old and have everyone he loves leave him.

Jason scoffs at them, sending Percy and Travis a withering look before rolling out of the booth. He stands slowly, shaking his head slightly before shooting Travis a half-hearted glare. "Just ignore them, Annabeth," he tells her, walking up and plopping down on the closest stool, "they like to tell horror stories about working here, but it's not that bad." Jason sends her his sunny smile and Annabeth laughs, bumping shoulders with him absentmindedly.

Travis tosses the spoon at Jason, barring his teeth and hissing at him. The spoon bounces off Jason's forehead and drops back to the counter with an unimpressive plop. Jason looks less than amused by this, but merely sends Travis a bored expression, used to having things thrown at him by this point.

Poor Jason.

"Hey!" Travis barks, pointing an accusing finger in Jason's direction. Jason merely quirks a brow, unimpressed with Travis's little show. "My Mr. D stories are completely true!" he tells them, crossing his arms and glaring at all of them.

"Oh, I'm sure they are," Annabeth replies dryly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Percy can see a challenge brewing in her eyes, a little spark that makes her grey eyes seem like molten silver. Her gaze isn't sharp, not like it was when Percy ran into her this morning, but it's burning right through all of them.

She hasn't spoken much since Chiron came in, he realizes. She's been quiet, content to just listen to the rest of them. Maybe just waiting for her uncle to leave, or maybe waiting for an opportunity for that sharp tongue of her's to come back out to play. He isn't sure, but something about the way Annabeth is staring at Travis like he's something to conquer—something to fight and win and beat into the ground—makes Percy curious.

Travis straightens immediately, recognizing the challenge in her eyes as she stares him down from across the counter. He raises a brow at her, clearly impressed with the way she's practically _daring_ him to answer. Travis grins a moment later, a big smile that's all sharp teeth as it splits his face.

Percy winces, already knowing where this is going and it's not going to end well. Travis hates to lose a verbal spar and prides himself in being a sarcastic little shit—which Percy says with as much affection as possible, because Travis is one of his good friends—but Annabeth looks like she could eat him alive. Hell, Percy knows she could eat him alive. he managed to keep up with Percy earlier and not a lot of people can handle his sass. Percy will bet ten dollars that Annabeth and Travis either kill each other, or become best friends after this. There's no in between.

Travis, of course, takes the bait, because he's an idiot that can't keep his mouth shut and loves to argue with pretty girls, apparently. It's official. Travis has no fucking idea how to woo people. That or he's just a huge masochist. Does he want to get beat up? Is that his goal? Percy doesn't know, but it sure seems like it.

"You callin' me a liar, Blondie?" he asks lightly, a hint of teasing in his tone. He crosses his arms across his chest, staring her down from his side of the counter.

Beside Annabeth, Jason squeezes his eyes shut, mouthing what Percy thinks is the word "fuck." Fuck, indeed, Jason. This isn't going to end well. They should probably close up the shop now because someone's going to die—or at least be severely maimed. Maybe. Percy can't really tell at this point.

Annabeth shrugs and slips onto the stool beside Jason, her lips curving up into a full smile. "I call them like I see them," she says simply, openly grinning now. At least she doesn't look like she's going to kill Travis anymore. Percy doesn't get paid enough to clean up _that_ mess.

Travis barks out a laugh. "Oh, really?" he snorts, shoulders relaxing as he leans down against the counter, propping his head up on his hands and wiggling his eyebrows tauntingly. "You really want to start this with me, _Annie_?" he inquires, waiting for a reaction.

She doesn't give him one, just raises a brow and cocks her head to the side, shoving a mess of blonde curls out of her eyes. She only regards him briefly, before going back to the spoon in her hands, sliding her thumb along the curved edge. "You're acting a little defensive for someone that's supposedly telling the truth," she notes casually.

He shrugs, but the smile never leaves him. "And you're acting a little quick to judge for someone that doesn't even know me," Travis tells her.

Wow. Point for Travis, he actually said something that made sense for once, instead of winning an argument by being sassy and making strange movements with his arms. Look at him growing up and learning how to actually talk to people. This is a big moment. Percy's going to put it in the scrapbook!

Percy's going to tell Grover to put it in the scrapbook.

Annabeth laughs. "I know that you're uncouth."

Jason snorts, barely biting back a laugh.

Travis just frowns, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as he stares back at her. "What the fuck does that mean?" he questions.

"What the fuck does what mean?" a new voice asks, followed by a loud yawn. Percy head lolls to the side as he peers over his shoulder, surprised to see a decisively sleep-mussed Connor leaning against the door frame that leads to the back. He yawns again, running a hand through his messy curls and blinking between the four of them blearily.

What the—was he fucking sleeping in the back? Is that why it took him so damn long to put on his uniform? God dammit, this is why Percy needs Grover and Nico here. They're the only ones that can supervise in the back! Why the hell did he have to punch Grover in the face, today of all days? He needs his best friend to help him control the hooligans!

"Were you sleeping?" Jason voices the question on Percy's mind, gaping at Connor with wide, disgruntled blue eyes. _Yeah, Connor?_ Percy thinks, _were you fucking sleeping on the job you ingrate? What the hell made you think that was okay?_

Connor ignores them, suddenly zeroing in on their new arrival. He raises a brow at Annabeth, trying to look cool in his rumpled shirt as he crosses one ankle over the other. "Well, hello, pretty girl," he crows, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

Annabeth doesn't spare him a glance, just pretends to find her fingernails interesting. Percy glances at her hands, noticing the chipped, minty green polish for the first time. Well, that's a fun color.

"Too old for you," she tells the new boy without looking up from her nails, though she does shoot Percy a quick look, rolling her eyes just the slightest, before smiling at him.

Percy wonders if she has a lot of dumbasses try and flirt with her. Shit, is he just another name on that list? Because that would suck.

Connor doesn't seem perturbed, just grins wider and wiggles his eyebrows, giving Annabeth a quick once over from where he can see her behind the counter. "Honey," he jokes, "you don't look a day over twenty."

Annabeth's eyebrows shoot up and she raises her eyes to look at Connor, giving him a similar look in return. It's quiet for a moment as they all wait with baited breath. Jason looks even more mortified than earlier and Travis is turning a peculiar shade of purple because he's holding his breath to keep from laughing.

And Percy? He has no idea what to think. This is not how his day was supposed to go. It was supposed to be Saturday and he was supposed to sleep in and everything was supposed to be fine. Not, whatever _this_ is.

"And you," Annabeth finally replies, ever so slowly, the words dripping like honey from her tongue, "don't look legal." She sends him a smile, but it's tight, almost malicious.

Connor grins back. "Fair point!" he concedes. "How you doin?"

In the next second, his pants fall down without warning, revealing white boxers—Percy had incorrectly assumed Connor was more of a briefs guy. He stands corrected—with cute little rainbow-colored cartoon dinosaurs scattered across the fabric and a hell of a lot more than Percy ever wanted to see of Connor's legs. Percy has never needed nor wanted to see quite this much of Connor's thighs, and he's pretty sure no one else has either. Those boxers sure are stylin' though. Percy will have to ask him about those later. He's always wanted dinosaur print underwear. It'll make him have sweet dreams of Chris Pratt at night.

That was a joke, by the way. Percy likes Chris Pratt, but not _that_ much.

Never mind that, though. Connor is still standing in the middle of the shop with his pants around his ankles, eyes wide as he stands stock still, a flush creeping up from his neck. Now, Percy feels bad, he really does. He can practically smell the anxiety rolling off Connor in waves, and Travis looks like he's about to piss himself he's laughing so hard. The older Stoll has sunk to the floor at this point, barely able to hold himself up as he practically claws at the counter top to keep himself from face planting right into the floor.

Percy kicks him. Gently. And Travis's grip slip from the counter, sending him sprawling onto the cold, unforgiving floor.

He can't even bring himself to look at Annabeth as he turns around fully, facing Connor directly because _he's still not pulling his pants up dammit_.

"Connor!" he barks, startling the younger male so much that he takes a step back and nearly trips over his downed jeans. Because that would be just great. That's really all they need at the moment. Who needs professionalism? Apparently not them! Percy shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut briefly and running tense fingers through his hair. "I swear to God, I've told you a hundred times not to come out here without your belt on! How many times have I told you that shit like this can happen?" Percy hisses, going into manager mode. He doesn't like to be the damn bad guy, but that's what he'll have to be. It's okay. Everything's fine. He only has to be here for another five or so hours before he can go home and wallow in self-pity over his day with a bottle of bourbon Paul gave him (what a damn enabler.). No big deal. He's good. Everything is just…fine. "And pull your damn pants up, man, you look like a fool!" Percy adds as an afterthought.

He can berate later. Right now he just needs to get Connor out of here.

Connor, finally seeming to regain his bearings, has the audacity to send Percy a cheeky grin as he yanks his pants back up over his hips. "I'll just be going now," he tells them, giving Percy a quick solute before darting back into the freezer room as if nothing had happened.

Percy sighs, shaking his head and feeling more exhausted than he has in weeks. "I'm going to kill your brother," he tells Travis, peering down at the man on the floor. Travis blinks up at him. "Is that okay?" he asks.

Travis shrugs. "I'll just tell mom we don't need to set an extra plate for dinner tonight." Wow. Isn't Travis just the best brother ever? He's just perfectly okay with Percy committing murder. Then again, it is ravioli night at the Stoll's place. Percy would definitely kill for a second serving of that. Mama Stoll _knows_ how to make a mean ravioli.

"Okay," Percy says, reaching down to help his friend up. Travis grins and grabs Percy's outstretched hands, using them to pull himself from the floor. Righting himself, Travis dusts off his clothing, locking eyes with Annabeth once again.

"We haven't formally introduced ourselves," Travis notes, drumming his fingers against the counter top in thought. "Of course, you already know Percy and all of his bare-chested glory," he says, wiggling his eyebrows, making Percy blanch and Annabeth laugh. Well, at least one of them can laugh about it. Oh, but Travis doesn't stop there. "Quite a sight if I do say so myself. Swimmers, am I right?" he jokes, nudging Percy with his elbow. Kill him. "Apparently you met baby Grace at some point," he continues. "I'm totally going to ask you for details later, because I need all the fodder I can get. Nico isn't here right now because he's a delinquent. And Grover isn't here because Percy broke his nose or some shit, I wasn't really listening." Annabeth scoffs and Travis waves her off with a dismissive hand. "I'm Travis Stoll," he introduces himself, holding out a hand for her to shake, which she does, albeit slowly. "And the one with the dinosaur print boxers is my younger brother, Connor. I'm the better brother, in case you were wondering," he adds slyly. "Nice to meet you!"

Annabeth releases his hand, giggling. "Nice to meet you, too," she tells him. "I'm Annabeth Chase." She looks at Percy. "It's nice to officially meet you, Percy," she jokes, holding her hand out for him to take.

Percy takes her hand, trying not to think about how soft her skin is. Obviously, he's not doing a very good job, because _wow, her skin is really soft_. She probably uses lotion. Maybe he should use lotion. There's no shame in having soft skin.

"You know," he starts, releasing Annabeth and giving her a small smile. "I'm surprised you haven't run screaming yet." Because he totally would have. He still might. It's been a weird day. A very weird, very long day. He needs a nap. And another cup of coffee.

Annabeth laughs, but it sounds like a challenge to Percy, not as bell like as usual. It sounds like she's laughing in the same way that someone puts on a brave face. "Believe me, it'll take more than a couple of boys flashing me to get me to run for the hills," she promises. "You'll have to do a lot worse than that, I don't scare easily," she tells him lowly, leaning forward like it's some sort of secret that only he can hear.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Percy can see Connor rejoin the group, plopping down on the stool on Jason's other side and immediately striking up a conversation with the other teenager. Travis shoot Percy a subtle thumbs up before joining them, vaulting over the counter and grabbing the two boys to drag them over to a booth by the windows, leaving Percy and Annabeth alone.

Travis is a bro.

"Good to know," he replies, smiling. He clears his throat, not quite sure what to say that isn't stupid or redundant. "So, how long are you staying in New York?" he settles on, wincing slightly. It's such a bland question, but still, it'll be nice to know how long he'll be sticking around.

"Awhile," Annabeth tells him, shoving hair out of her face. "I start at NYU next semester," she explains, shrugging nonchalantly. "I'm only staying with Chiron for a few weeks though." Her gaze drifts over the shop's walls for a moment, her expression pensive. "I have a couple of friends here, their third roommate just moved in with her boyfriend, so they're looking for a new one. They offered to take me in so long as I don't throw wild parties or have crazy sex with strangers," she tells him, the look in her eyes telling him she's only half joking about that last part.

Percy's about to say something stupid, like "what about people that aren't strangers?" but he catches himself at the last second, his jaw snapping shut with a clack. Yeah, he probably shouldn't say that one. It's a little too early in their friendship-thing for him to be accidentally propositioning her for sex. That usually doesn't happen until at least a few weeks after the first friend date.

Annabeth notices his expression and raises a brow. "What?" she asks. "Sad you won't be getting rid of me that quickly?"

Percy leans back, gaping at her. "Now you're just putting words in my mouth," he accuses, tossing a stray straw wrapper at her. _Lies and slander_.

She shrugs, leaning away from the counter. "Well, then why don't you stop me?" she whispers, eyes locking with his, gaze darker than he remembers it being before. "Because I'm pretty sure you could," she tells him, eyeing the sleeves pushed up above his elbows, his forearms barred, revealing a tattoo and some well-toned muscle, if he's being honest.

He ducks his head down so he's close to her ear. "And what if I did?" Well, so much for no propositions. "What would you do then?" he asks her, reaching out and giving one of her curls a gentle tug, watching as it springs back into place. She smells like roses and lemon, he notices, but only because it's such an odd combination. It's different. Nice.

Annabeth grins, leaning in just the slightest so that her lips almost touch his ear when she speaks, but not quite. It's like a ghost. There, but at the same time it's not. "I guess you'll have to find out," she tells him, sending a shiver up his spine.

* * *

 **AN: I hope you guys enjoyed it! It took forever for me to sort out the ending! Next chapter is what's happening with Nico during the same time as this chapter! Please remember to drop me a review and tell me what you thought! I'd really appreciate it!**

 **(PS) I'd just like to say that yes, Percy and Annabeth are going to flirt a lot. Sometimes it'll be really unabashed and crude. That's just the kind of relationship it's going to be, because they're a little bit older. However, they won't be getting together right away. It's going to be a slow burn fic wise, time-line wise, we'll see! So, expect lots of flirting, some drama, some heartbreak, and lots of chaos!**


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